There's a Part of Me in You
by volleyballwb9
Summary: Lucifer tore through Dean to get to Sam. Hell's army is rising and Dean is on the run, abandoned by the angels with something unexplainable happening to him. Can Dean kill Lucifer, if it means killing his brother too? AU season 4. character death
1. Ascension

**Fic Title:** There's a Part of Me in You  
**Genre:** SPN AU  
**Rating:** R  
**Warnings/Spoilers:** Spoilers through Season Four finale. Some violence. Character death.

I don't own any of the characters only the plot.

Ascension

Dean felt still-warm blood seep into the back of his shirt. Every inch of his body ached with exhaustion and pain. _Why Sam?_ He held his breath as his brother's body strode gracefully from the room. _He didn't even look back. _The footsteps echoed down the stone corridor for what seemed like years, until only silence remained.

_Not even a glance? It isn't Sammy, not any more._ Dean sighed.

Dean opened his eyes to see Castiel standing over him. The angel was searching Heaven for answers, and, for the life of him, Dean couldn't believe he was getting any useful advice.

He needed to go after Sam. He needed to stop him, to stop Lucifer, the apocalypse, everything that wanted to fuck his life up anymore than it already was.

Dean lifted his head. He stifled a groan and tried to steady his swimming vision. He laid his head back on the stone, shifting as his muscles clenched. His eyes involuntarily fluttered shut; the blessed black of unconsciousness eased his aching body and he didn't want to have to think any more.

"Dean? Dean!" Someone was yelling at him from down the hall. _Sam!_ Dean's eyes snapped open; the room spun dangerously. Brilliant blue eyes gazed down at him as Castiel's concerned face wavered back and forth in his vision.

"Dean."

Dean moved his mouth to reply, but sound was so far away. His voice seemed so weak. The pain had numbed into an angry throb, destined to return at full force when Dean could remember what pain was supposed to feel like.

"Cas," he mumbled. The angel nodded fretfully.

"We need to leave. Dean, can you stand?" Castiel offered a hand. Dean took the offered support. His arm wouldn't bear his weight so he let Castiel pull him up. Merely standing tilted the world in three directions at once as the blood rushed from his head.

When Dean wavered, the angel caught him, swinging Dean's arm over his shoulders. Dean leaned heavily on his support, very much aware that Castiel was staring at him. The metallic taste coating his mouth slid into Dean's throat, like liquid copper.

"Don't look," Castiel's voice echoed through the air. A black cloud bulged from the flagstones, bursting into the convent.

Castiel closed his eyes and held on to Dean.

Dean should have closed his eyes, too.

The light in the convent flickered dangerously, all the colors melting into a stream of grays and browns. Stone walls were replaced by the tan patterned paper covering the motel's walls. Dean retched up the empty contents of his stomach, his shifting vision doing nothing to settle his pounding head. He couldn't remember how to move his legs and they collapsed under him, one arm tucked against his convulsing stomach.

Castiel caught him, easily supporting the extra weight. He waited till Dean had settled, and asked if he was alright. Sam wouldn't have needed to ask. Dean couldn't remember his answer but it came out in a pained moan. Castiel steered Dean to the bed with an ugly green comforter tucked neatly over the sheets. Dean closed his eyes, and allowed Castiel to manhandle him around the room.

His jacket fell silently from his shoulders, and Dean felt a soft pillow cradling his head. _When had he lain down?_ The soft tearing of fabric broke the silence.

Cool air struck his open wounds, making Dean flinch. Pain coursed through his chest in waves. It gathered behind his eyes and struck deep in his stomach, making him shift restlessly, trying to escape the pain.

Castiel caught his hand and held it down on the bed. The embrace was soft and reassuring. "Dean, stop moving. You will only make it worse," he chided. Electric blue light caught Dean's attention, and he found himself staring at Castiel's eyes. They were a rare color, almost unearthly.

He pushed against Castiel's light grip; his arm was shaking under the stain. Dean let it fall against the bed when a struggle was obviously useless. Castiel left his hand in Dean's a moment longer before returning to Dean's shirt. The angel pulled it off easily, placing the bloody clothing on the small table a few feet away.

Five deep, smooth cuts raced down Dean's chest with an ugly gurgle of blood rising to the surface of his skin. They were wide and gaping up at him like the crooked smile of, and Dean wanted to laugh at the irony of it, the devil. The tattoo under Dean's left collar bone was distorted and smeared with drying brown-black blood. It was useless now that Lucifer had broken it. His fingers brushed against his skin and the tattoo flared white hot, like a fresh brand blazing hellfire into his flesh. Dean jerked his hand back, hissing at the new pain.

Castiel spun around at the noise. "Dean, are you alright?" Dean's back arched as the fire spread, blanketing every other sensation. Something slid under his skin filling his entire body with pain. It seeped into his bones and ached of something powerfully dark but intensely pure at the same time.

Castiel's eyes flared bright like stars against a night sky, his entire body enveloped in light. A white fire consumed the angel and Dean would have shielded his eyes if the movement were possible. Dean couldn't look on the brilliance filling the room. He couldn't even process the fear he should have been feeling for Castiel.

"Dean?"

Dean forced himself to look away, to close his eyes. He shook under the pressure. It was enveloping his soul, merging, clinging, coveting and he just couldn't take it. It was inhuman and cold; it was light and warmth and power and, oh God, it hurt.

Castiel hesitated, and then the light drifted closer, coloring the inside of Dean's eyelids with an ocher tint. He felt a hand on his forehead and gentle pressure on his mind. The invasion of sensation fell back with an angry hiss. The light wavered, and the dark crept in like a reaper.

Dean felt his body relax, even as his mind writhed. The pain raged on as unconsciousness swallowed him.

Pulled between life and death, Dean dreamed darkly. His mind was restless, falling in and out of sleep. Consciousness was filled with harsh pain before he was pulled under again. All he could see was light and odd symbols etched against his eyelids; they might have been nokian. He felt like his body wanted to fall apart. He needed to wake up but Dean couldn't break what bound him to sleep.

Filling the endless minutes between waking were images and memories flashing viciously before his eyes. Time warped and images came flooding in at random.

Sam stood over him.

The world burned with flickering fires, and red flooded his brother's eyes, as Sam grinned cruelly at the death of everything Dean had cherished.

Lucifer clawed through his chest, invisible hands shredding Dean's flesh in an effort to get out, razor claws tearing him apart from the inside.

Blood ran in rivers around countless bodies. He was running over them, crossing an endless field of death. Something waited for him on the other side. He had to get there in time. _In time for what?_

Sam's hand locked around his throat. The hand fit snuggly around Dean's neck, cutting off his air.

The tainted light entered his chest like a round of buckshot. Pain flooded Dean's limbs, as if he could no longer fit in his body without it bursting. Lucifer possessed him, their minds merging and there just wasn't enough room to contain the power coursing through him.

Everything was on fire. Dean couldn't hear himself screaming but he could feel the power catching a ride on his voice, burning his throat and lungs. Blood red filled his thoughts and he felt his eyes change as Lucifer took hold, even as the blood dripped like tears down his cheeks.

Sam's arms still held him even as Dean's chest split open and Lucifer climbed out, a menacing being of pure light. Then he was falling to the ground, falling from Sam and he knew that it was over, all over. As his back struck the floor…

Dean's eyes snapped open as he finally broke free of his dreams. Air rushed into his dry throat, violently burning his lungs as he sat bolt upright. The cuts on his chest had been bandaged, but the white cloth was spotted crimson. A dark purple bruise covered his entire chest. Hands gripped his shoulders gently and for an instant Dean thought everything was a dream, that Lucifer was still in Hell, that Sam was still _Sammy_.

But it was not Sam who held him down. He squinted at the strange light filling the room and jumped when he looked at Castiel. The radiance still consuming him lit the room like the noon sun. As soon as Dean blinked the light vanished.

"Easy," Castiel commanded. Dean felt himself shaking against Castiel as the pain and exhaustion flooded back into his body. "Relax, Dean. You're safe… Dean?"

Dean shifted to get out of bed.

Bad idea.

His muscles screamed with pain. Castiel traced the handprint scar on Dean's shoulder, as he easily pushed Dean back down onto the pillow. "Don't try to get up."

"I'm… I'm fine," Dean argued.

"Really," Castiel asked as Dean's face contorted with pain again. "You need to rest."

Castiel started changing Dean's bandages. His bruises were black around the long cuts, and there weren't any signs that the bleeding was slowing down.

"How long was I out?" Dean mumbled past the pain.

"Not as long as you should have been," Castiel whispered. Sadness flickered across his blank features. "Almost eighteen hours. You needed more."

"I need to find-"

"Sam?" Castiel watched Dean struggle to keep his eyes open. "He has been possessed by Lucifer. You can't go find him, Dean. You are in no condition to fight him now."

The room went dark around Dean as the cuts on his chest pulsed. He blinked slowly until the tan walls returned. "I have to, Cas. He's my brother. I have to save him."

Castiel looked away. "I won't pretend to know what you are feeling, but with the state of your injuries and the fact that Sam is possessed by Lucifer! There is no way to retrieve your brother without getting one or both of you killed." Dean glared. "The only thing you can do for Sam is rest and heal."

Dean stared blankly at the ceiling, wincing at even the most delicate movement. He didn't want to acknowledge the truth in the angel's words.

"You should rest again," Castiel suggested.

The sensation of falling from Sam's arms gripped Dean, he cringed. "I don't want to." The words passed his lips as another numbing torrent of pain racked his body.

"You need sleep to heal."

"I'm fine," and, as if his body responded to this command, his vision wavered. "Just…just don't put me back to sleep."

"Dean-" The angel moved forward.

He glared at the Castiel. "I said don't touch me! If I want to sleep I'll do it on my own, thanks." Sudden anger and fear flared in Dean, sending a pleasing tingle across his skin. His vision wavered again and the room paled as if bleached. He shook his head but the room remained distorted.

The confusion on Castiel's face did nothing to calm Dean. Although, Castiel probably meant to help. "I'm sorry. Did I do something wrong?" Castiel asked.

"Forget it," Dean mumbled as his chest throbbed relentlessly, meticulously numbing his entire body. Dean welcomed the lack of sensation.

"What happened?"

"Forget I mentioned it," Dean gritted his teeth. "I'm fine." Blood ran in rivers around countless bodies. He shivered.

"Clearly you are not fine, Dean," Castiel scowled.

"Damn it, Castiel. Leave it alone!" The angel clenched his teeth angrily before his features settled into impassiveness. Castiel's chin fell to his chest in a motion suddenly too quick for Dean to catch.

The deadening pain pulled Dean back toward the darkness.

"Cas?" Castiel looked up at Dean's shuddering voice. The room darkened around him. He felt the pressure again, as if something inside him wanted out. It ran over his skin like lingering fingers, this time caressing with an unsettling familiarity. The room faded, to be replaced by a beacon of light. Dark tendrils pulsed through the bright form with sinister energy. It was Sammy and Dean had tried so hard to keep his brother safe from that. The light slowly grew until it swallowed the blackness… It became pure and holy, coldly divine.

Castiel had moved toward Dean, a movement Dean didn't even register. A brilliant glow echoed his features; it was without color and yet clearly defined, without shadow and yet detailed. "Dean what's wrong?" His voice was different too. There was a ringing tone to it, like Dean shouldn't be able to understand it. The sound reminded him of the gas station and hotel room; it reminded him of when Castiel had tried to speak without a human vessel.

His head ached with the new brilliance of the room; again, like the noon sun was captured within the angel. "I don't know… Something's wrong, I can't see…" Dean's eyes adjusted to the light, taking it in without cringing and setting the colors of the room back to normal. The image of Sam, aglow in Lucifer's vision, kept flashing across Dean's mind. "He couldn't see…" Lucifer. Light. Sam. He held his own hand before his eyes.

Tendons subtly moved under a glowing layer of skin pitching the light at odd angles. The light equaled Castiel's in radiance but Dean could swear it was only moving underneath his skin like a trapped beast. He shifted his hand but could find no shadows. "Dean," Castiel whispered. "What's wrong?"

"Cas," Dean looked directly at the angel. Something shifted at Castiel's shoulder, a solid black _something _had moved. But as soon as the movement was there, it was gone. "He couldn't see… Only light."

"Who are you talking about?"

"Lucifer," Dean uttered. The name startled his nerves, sent the creature beneath his skin into a fit. "Sammy… He was made of light." He reached out as if he could still grab onto Sam's form. His eyes flickered back to Castiel. "He sees the world in light. We were made of light." Dean turned his hand again.

"I don't understand," the angel pushed Dean's hand down bringing his attention back to the conversation.

The light merged. "Lucifer possessed me." His free hand brushed his tattoo and the symbols appeared again, burning with the unsettling hum of that foreign feeling. "And everything was made of light. Me. Sam. And now… You…" His hand moved out to touch Castiel's arm.

"You have Lucifer's sight?"

"Well, it's bright as Hell in here, and I'm pretty sure you're not a light bulb," Dean joked. His choked laugh made his head throb. Humor wasn't the wisest thing right now.

"That cannot be. Lucifer doesn't…"

"Yeah, he does. Trust me. He is one fucked up bastard." Dean couldn't feel much anymore. Sensation was rolling over him but he couldn't process it. The overwhelming pressure within him gave way. The world resettled around him.

The light had disappeared and Castiel's bright eyes still held Dean's. His chest throbbed but he wasn't aware enough to notice. The darkness was closing in again leaving only Castiel in clear view. "Cas?" Dean heard his name a moment before the light winked out.

Dean woke in darkness. Castiel wasn't in the room. Dean would have welcomed the company.

His dreams had been driven by unknown horrors. A murmur echoed from outside the open door. A gentle street light filtered in the windows and door.

Dean swung his legs off the bed and sat up. Black spots rippled across his vision and his chest ached. The pain passed quickly into the dull backdrop of Dean's curiosity. His jeans were stiff as he stood up.

The mumbling grew as he approached the door.

"I don't care!" The voice was familiar and male. He paused to brace himself on the table, not sure if he should reveal his presence yet.

"Why him?"

"Castiel, you have disobeyed one too many times. If you can't handle him, I will and by our Father's command, you will be reprimanded accordingly." Dean moved closer, his shadow almost touching the shaft of light filtering in the doorway.

"Why him?

"Because the choice was made long ago. Set in motion by our superiors, the perfect plan has been created. It is in his blood. He won't be able to escape his duty."

"Do you mean his duty to humanity, or to you," Castiel spat back angrily.

"You speak of the same thing. Our purpose is humanity's," Dean could visualize an evil smile behind the words.

"What about his brother? He won't serve you without a chance to save Sam." Dean stepped into the light to see the two angels arguing face to face. Zachariah's vessel wore his normal suit. Dean felt something settle in his stomach.

"Samuel Winchester was a required sacrifice. Dean should realize that saving his brother is futile. The sooner he kills Lucifer the better. It is the reason they were born," Zachariah said coldly. His back was to Dean and he turned so Castiel could clearly see Dean in the door way. Dean's hand gripped the frame as he stared at the pair. "Dean," Zachariah smiled. He glared a silent warning at Castiel, and disappeared. Zachariah vanished with a faint trace of light running through the space he had occupied.

Dean stared at Castiel.

Castiel hesitated. An intense feeling of betrayal ate at Dean. His bruised chest rebelled at the thought of losing another friend.

Obviously seeing him cringe, Castiel said, "Dean. You should be resting, not-"

"Why are you here?" Dean's voice was cold and shaking.

"What do you mean?"

"Who gets to _handle_ me next? Just pass me off to when I get to be too much trouble?"

"It's not what it sounds like."

"Oh really, cause it sounds like _God_ doesn't want me getting out of hand." Dean yelled. He let go of the door frame and instantly stumbled.

"Dean!"

Dean warned Castiel to stay back.

"That's not what we meant."

"How are you here?"

"What?" The question caught Castiel off guard. "Dean, please sit down."

"You were about to be torn apart by an Archangel, Cas. You couldn't fight off one of those." It had been the question brewing in his mind before he had slipped into the darkness.

Castiel looked away. "I was spared," he whispered guiltily.

"Spared," Dean nodded. The angels had taken Castiel back, and Castiel would obey them like a good little servant.

"Yes… They spared me so that I might bring you back, correct my mistake," Castiel said, voice low. Dean watched light dance around in Castiel's eyes. A swirling brilliance just under the blue. "You swore allegiance to heaven and Zacharias wants that service fulfilled. They believe I am the only one who can control you; that I'm the only one you will obey."

"So the only reason you didn't let Sam kill me is because Heaven needs another servant? I don't serve you or your damn angels. Screw what God wants of me. What about what I want? Just another soldier. Well the war can go on without me, Hell it should have happened four and a half years ago. Thanks for your help, but I don't fucking want it. I'll find Sam on my own," Dean spat. His chest, mottled with purple and yellow bruises, raced with pain. He clutched his stomach, and stepped back into the shadow of the room.

"You aren't strong enough. Let me help you," Castiel stepped forward.

"Then Heaven put its faith in the wrong man. I don't want your pity. Find someone else."

"I only wish to assist you. I believe you will fulfill your destiny either way. Better it be on your terms, not Heavens. I was created and founded on belief. It is all I know how to do… Heaven did not make a bad choice. There is a reason they wanted to keep you safe and as far from Lucifer as possible. You are the only one who can save humanity. "

"So why didn't you stop them, before humanity needed saving."

Castiel faltered, looking up at Dean. "I was unaware of what Heaven intended until it was too late. They wanted this, not me. Defying Heaven is an impossible task."

"You've done it though. You defied them. Cas, it isn't impossible, so cut the shit."

The angel looked away. "Dean."

"Go back to your angels. It's not like you ever cared about what happens to humans anyway," Dean spat. "You don't know what it is like to feel, pain, happiness, anger, love. All of it. You're emotionless. So go, forget about me and all the millions you condemned to death and serve your righteous God."

Dean slammed the door and wavered unsteadily. He slid to his knees, bracing one hand on the floor. Castiel's shoes were abruptly a few feet away. The angel stooped down before Dean.

"I will not leave you. You may want me gone but I can't do that. Humanity needs you, your brother needs you."

"Just leave me alone."

"No." The word was forceful. Dean finally looked up. The light still swirled. Castiel slid a hand around Dean's arm and pulled him upright.

He jerked away and nearly fell. In panic, he reached out to steady himself on Castiel's arm. The angel looked surprised. Light bloomed around Dean's hand and a calm sensation rolled through his limbs twining with that dark touch still lingering under his skin. The pain died away as his bruises faded to yellow and his cuts shrank into scars. Dean's grip remained tight even as his feet promised they would support him.

"What the hell did you just do?"

Castiel's expression was enough to tell Dean that he was as confused as the angel. "I don't know how I did that." Dean stared at the angel. The swirling had stopped. "I'm not supposed to be able to do that."

"Who is?" Dean added sarcastically.

"Archangels," Castiel said bluntly. "Protectors of prophets and other chosen humans."

"So how did you?" Dean said, surprise killed his anger.

"I don't know."

Dean shook his head and tried to move. Minimal pain resulted from the walk across the room. He didn't say anything as Castiel followed him. He sat down on the bed and rubbed his hand over the growing stubble covering his chin. He felt the angel's eyes on him, waiting for the next move.

Castiel finally sat in the chair he had used for the past day. Across from Dean, he averted his gaze and turned to study the wall paper. "Angels are not oblivious to emotion… We do care for others than ourselves," his voice rang. Dean looked up in time to catch Castiel glancing back at him.

"Really," Dean grunted, it wasn't a question, but a challenge.

"Yes." Castiel licked his lips. "Just like humans, we have compassion for each other and our Father-"

"God is a requirement for you, doesn't really count."

"And," Castiel continued, "for humans."

"Like who," Dean spat. "Your kind just sentenced most of us to death."

"Moses, Jesus, his disciples, many devout others, even you."

"Wow, you really are flattering." Dean sighed.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm no Moses. I'm not a disciple. Heaven doesn't care about me."

"No, you aren't either of those. You are a savior. Humanity's salvation. The one to purge this world of evil," Castiel said frankly.

"Me? Ha… No. I was just roped into bringing about the apocalypse. I'm no savior."

"Were you not listening to what Zacharias just said? Or what he told you before this? Heaven recruited you to save the world from the clutches of Lucifer. You are to destroy him, or return him to his rightful place in the prison of Hell."

"How? I've done a lot of things that weren't holy, that weren't right. Why does Heaven still want me?"

"You did exactly what you were supposed to do? You did nothing wrong. I don't think you could have."

Dean looked away. How much of his life was not his own? How much of it was the careful planning, training, building of Heaven's savior? What was actually him? What did he actually choose to do? "So, free will? That's God's big joke, right?"

"No. It was entirely your choice… But I'm sure you had a few good pushes in the right direction. I am not totally aware of the entire plan. I only know that you fulfilled every expectation. You are exactly what you need to be to defeat Lucifer."

"And if I can't?"

"You will. I have faith."


	2. Human

Chapter 2 – Human

I meant to get this out earlier but stuff came up and school has been hectic. Anyways you know the drill, I don't own Dean or Sam etc.

Hope you enjoy.

Lucifer entered the bar and everyone looked at the new arrival. His hand twitched at his side. The bar was perfect. The pool tables were covered with money and cheap beer. He walked up to the bar and sat on a stool. The burly bartender nodded in his direction as he wiped a rag around an empty glass.

He waved the bartender over. Everyone's head turned again.

Lucifer smirked. He glanced around and they returned to their alcohol. A local brew was placed on the counter but he didn't take a drink.

He glanced down the bar to where a thin man sat, his frail frame not fitting into his obviously hand-me-down jacket, but his expression marked him as cunning and deceitful. A small black tattoo of a cobra decorated the base of his neck, half hidden under his collar. Lucifer nodded and the man looked away.

Turning, he made eye contact with a girl still watching him intently. She stood from her booth, easily sliding out of her boyfriend's protective embrace. She crossed the room to lean on the bar next to him. A muffled exclamation followed her. Angry footsteps echoed on the floor.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

_Yeah, what the Hell do you think you're doing,_ Sam's voice echoed.

Lucifer looked at the girl's boyfriend, who visibly flinched, but his ego couldn't justify what instinct told him. The girl made a show of fending him off. Everyone glanced at the pair, deciding it was nothing of interest, and then they looked away. Lucifer's eyes flooded to blood red. The boyfriend jumped and ran from the bar.

"Hey," she said in a seductive tone, turning to face him. Lucifer blinked and the girl gazed into Sam's soft hazel eyes.

_Hey stupid! Run away right now. Get the Hell out of here. Leave!_

Lucifer looked at her, interested.

_No. Hey, you can't do that! This is my body,_ Sam flinched in the back of his mind.

Lucifer slid the beer over for her to take. She glanced at him, clearly enticed, and Lucifer smiled Sam's winning grin.

The girl chugged the alcohol and slammed the glass on the counter with a confused expression. It wouldn't satisfy her thirst. Lucifer ordered another with the wave of his finger and Sam fought him.

_You idiot, what the fuck are you doing! Hey, go home, run, leave._ It was a valiant effort but futile all the same. The drink rested on the counter as the bar ignored the new patron.

The girl chugged the new beer, not spilling a drop. When she was finished she stared at the bottom, as if uncertain how the liquid disappeared. Her hand went up to signal the bartender, but Lucifer caught her hand half way. She started, staring at him

Her eyes smiled longing at him, unabashedly assessing Sam's figure. Lucifer kept his hand rested gently on her arm. She was small compared to Sam. Gentle curves filled out her tight shirt and jeans. She leaned into him, placing her hands on his thighs.

Lucifer made Sam smile.

_Hell no!_ Lucifer ignored Sam's protests.

"Let's go," she said and grabbed his hand. She headed for the door but Lucifer didn't move, simply leaned against the bar, and pulled her back.

She looped her arms around his neck. Her lips were soft and anxious, pushing him into the bar, even as her arms pulled him closer. Sam's hands instinctively fell to her hips, the soft shirt sliding between his fingers, smooth skin like fire on Sam's arms.

_No_… Sam's voice was a discernable moan.

Lucifer focused on the familiar feel of her body. Her stomach pressed flat against his. Her fingers laced into his hair. She was unaware of anything else, and he was aware of her every movement.

His hands slid up the back of her shirt. _Stop. That's too far._ Sam's voice was desperate. He hated himself for feeling anything. _Hey you're in my body! You can't just…_

_Just what?_ Lucifer asked, still focusing on the girl's mouth. _Sam, I don't think you realize how unimportant you are right now._

Sam fell silent. She paused to jerk the shirt over her head. A small flower in black ink was tattooed above her breast. Lucifer gripped her shoulders and held her at arm's length, assessing the tattoo, and nodded.

His eyes flooded red.

_Wait, hey. You can't do this. Sam was shocked and flustered. You are one fucked up bastard!_

She stumbled backwards and Lucifer nodded a third time. Demon's descended upon her and pinned her to the floor. Next to the girl they held down the scrawny man. Lucifer smiled as her screams echoed within the bar. Sam cringed.

_What are you doing? Stop. What are you doing to her?_

"Get used to it, Samuel," he smirked to himself. Lucifer's voice was deeper than Sam's had been. Something in his voice made his words come alive.

He grabbed the arm of a female demon laughing at the two humans. She jumped at the touch. "My lord," her voice was excited. She knew what he wanted. "Willingly, my king."

_What the Hell are you doing?_ Sam struggled again.

He smiled and kissed her forehead. Sam's knife slid lightly across the demon's arms. She smiled back at him and knelt between the two humans. The blood fell on their lips in unison and the female demon laughed.

_Fuck,_ Sam gasped.

_I have a few friends that want to come out and play._ Sam shivered at the mental images rolling from Lucifer's mind. It was as if a Reaper touched his mind.

_Holy shit. Let 'em go! Just let them go._

The bartender's hand was wrapped firmly around the scrawny man's jaw, keeping his mouth agape for the flow of blood. A stocky biker held the girl's mouth open. Her screams muffled as -she tried not the swallow the thick red-black liquid.

Lucifer placed a hand on the female demon's shoulder and she drew her arms back. He kissed her forehead again, thanking her for her blood. The knife wounds sealed over instantly. The victims were whimpering on the floor unable to move even as the demons stepped back.

_No, no, no. Not them. They didn't ask for this!_

Lucifer laughed. _They did though. That's the thing. I don't have to force you humans to bring about the apocalypse and the end of your parasitic race. You do that all on your own._

He gazed down at them both before stepping over their heads to walk out the front door. Black smoke flooded the air over both victims. They choked on the endless clouds being forced down their throats. Their screams were muffled by the demons possessing them.

The cool night air played gently on Lucifer's skin. As much as he hated the animals that his father loved unconditionally, the pleasure of his new body sparked a fiery jealousy within him. Humans enjoyed the wonderful sensations of actual life. They weren't hindered by forced obedience and unconditional servitude. They were _free._ None of them deserved it, filthy creatures.

Sam shuddered. _You're jealous of us?_ Sam laughed. _Hey buddy, did you ever think that jealousy is a very human emotion._

_Good observation Samuel._ Lucifer sighed. _If jealousy makes me more human, then all the better for now._

Sam scowled.

Lucifer needed to see what his garden had become. His vision heightened in the dark. The glow of life returned and the world was set aflame. Sam flinched in the light.

A chuckle escaped Lucifer. _Your brother didn't flinch._

_Fuck you._ Sam cringed as Lucifer remembered possessing Dean. A filtered scream echoed from the memory.

_Sam!_ Dean's voice rang purely through Sam's mind until Lucifer felt him shaking. He ignored Sam's pain.

The dark woods around the bar gave off a gentle hum of life. The bright lights of small animals were tainted by their fear, and Lucifer found himself remembering Eden's life and the brightness he saw it in. It could be overwhelming and beautiful. It is why he had wanted to protect it from the foul refuse of humanity.

The night sky was thin. Lucifer closed his eyes and remembered the creation of stars. Each orb gently pulsing in his hands as he placed them across the vast space. His creations. They glowed brightly.

_A vivid light for each child of He who created all shall glow in the cosmos for eternity. Perfect and pure as the angel's they mimic._

Lucifer looked away as the memories flowed out. They wouldn't stop. Sam gaped in wonder, slowly being pulled out of his mournful shaking.

_His star shown brightest of all, brighter than Michael's which rests in the north to guide and was first placed and therefore does not move. No, his was glorious and could light the night better than the moon._

Lucifer shook his head in annoyance, his hand going to his temple in a very human gesture. This body would not allow him to suppress the images flooding his mind. He loathed revealing his mind to his vessel. No human had the right to see Eden, and here he was allowing Sam to revel in its beauty.

_And as his Father cast him from Heaven, his star followed and passed forever into the underworld. It crashed in the nothing of Hell and formed the raging fires that would burn for eternity, and yet its light was gone; only its power remained._

"Lucifer," a smooth voice called. It broke him from his nostalgia. He turned and smiled at his companion. Sam's confusion grew to horror. He quickly recognized Lucifer's second in command.

A laugh slipped out of Lucifer's mouth. Sam had studied well. _Humans never get anything right._

_What's that supposed to mean?_ Sam fumed in the back of Lucifer's mind.

_It means… the horrors your books create aren't half of what we're capable of._

"I knew you would like it." She smiled and licked a drop of blood off her lips.

"I had to make sure it was you," Lucifer whispered.

She stepped in close and rested her hands on Sam's chest.

Lucifer felt nothing at the touch, but Sam reacted as if her hands were made of fire. _Stop her, tell her to stop._ He cringed and fought Lucifer again.

The fabric conformed to Lucifer's chest as she slid her hands down the curves of his body. "You should know me by now." Her playful expression was back, but her eyes glinted and flooded to a dark blue. The navy stood out against her dark lashes. Lucifer pushed a lock of her black hair behind her ear. She smiled widely and kissed his palm.

Sam tried to pull away.

"I've missed your company," Lucifer said, a fondness slipping into his voice.

"And I have missed yours as well," mocked a voice from the door. The brush of boots on the ground marked the man's movement across the lot.

Sam panted with relief as the hands fell from his chest.

"Well that makes one of us," she growled. "I could have gone another millennium in Hell without hearing your voice."

"It's not like your voice is a chorus of angels. At least I serve a purpose." His eyes turned a burnt orange.

"Really, did the pet monkey get promoted so you could take his place?"

"At least I'm not a whore whose only job is to relieve-"

"I hope you miss Hell 'cause I'm going to bury you so far in the pit that no one will ever have to deal with you again."

"I'd like to see you try," he laughed, an echo of fear making the last word quiver. She dove at him.

Lucifer caught her wrist and pulled her tightly against his body. He ignored Sam's gasp at her touch. "Astoreth. Beelzebub. Enough." The thin man crossed his arm and proceeded to mock her silently. She tried to jerk away. "Enough!" Both demons stopped immediately. His voice brought silence to the chirping forest.

Astoreth turned her face back to Lucifer. The rose on her breast had sprouted vines; Lucifer watched them grow out of her shirt to climb her neck. They appeared like dark veins on her pale skin. The vines climbed her cheek and curled around her left eyes. He pulled up her hand and saw the gentle vines trailing across her thumb.

He looked from one demon to the other. "We have work to do." Both grinned expectantly. "Beelzebub. Organize those who have escaped in the area. Start amassing my army."

"Of course," the demon half bowed before sliding back into the bar.

"And what am I to do," Astoreth said. She stayed tucked against him and smiled.

"I have many jobs for you. But we will start with something simple." Sam pressed against his mind in revolt, the pain shooting through him. Lucifer had to become human, if just for a moment.

_You can never know what it is like to be human. You have no idea how it feels!_

_You can teach me well enough._

_I'm not doing anything. You don't learn to be human. You're either human or you're not. _

_Humanity is a condition, an impurity of the mind and soul. It isn't exclusive or permanent. You'll see, and help. You won't be able to stop yourself._ A startled yelp from the back of his mind was satisfying as Lucifer forced Sam into silence.

Her back hit the car with a rough thud. He pressed himself flush against her. Lucifer felt the entire length of her body mesh against his. His mouth started on hers and proceeded to trace the tattoo twisting down her cheek to the collar of her shirt. A startled groan echoed in the back of his mind.

She gasped against him pulling him in closer and holding him in place. She slid her hands up his shirt and traced Sam's muscles with the tip of her fingers. Sam whimpered softly, but the pain was overwrought by need.

Lucifer picked her up and immediately, he pushed her against the wall, sliding slowly toward the bedroom. The deserted cabin by the sea was instantly cooler against their skin. His hand slid back into her shirt and pulled it over her head. His mouth moved roughly against hers.

A startled couple stumbled into the entry way at the noise and Lucifer raised his hand at them. Before their startled cries even left their throats they fell lifeless to the floor. Astoreth glanced over and smiled. Lucifer caught her mouth again as she laughed.

Lucifer's arms clutched Astoreth's bare back, sending fire through Sam. His vessel was no longer pulling away. He was diving deeper, falling harder. Sam tossed her hard against the wall and for an instant Lucifer wasn't in control.

Astoreth grunted and swung her legs around his hips. Lucifer pushed Sam back to reassume control.

He carried her through the door. Astoreth fell on the bed and he slid on top of her. She pulled his shirt off and rolled him over. Her legs slid over Lucifer's hips and his jealousy grew with his excitement. His back on the bed she planted kisses down his bare chest.

They burned white hot, each resting bright red on his skin before fading. Sam clutched at the blanket and Lucifer immediately relaxed his hands not wanting to give Sam the satisfaction of control.

The blood coursing through Lucifer sent adrenaline to his mind and he suddenly didn't want to think anymore. He only wanted to feel. He didn't want to plot and plan the down fall of these creatures, and their wonderful feelings. Lucifer wanted to keep them for himself. Sam didn't deserve this, Lucifer did. He had waited so long for this. His eyes flooded red and he looked at Astoreth hungrily.

The clink of his belt buckle was followed by her cool touch on his hips. Lucifer flipped her over; his mouth bearing down on hers. Sam cringed at the burn but pushed forward. All Lucifer could do was laugh into Astoreth's mouth.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Her black hair clung to Lucifer's sweat slick arm. Astoreth's gentle breathing against his chest told him she had fallen asleep. He picked up her small hand to look at the delicate vines curling down her arm. Lucifer turned the hand over and saw the black rose on Astoreth's palm. He remembered carving them into her soul.

Sam's mind was drowsy, and almost drugged. He didn't even register the pain of Astoreth's skin.

Lucifer decided that he was no longer jealous of Sam. He was almost grateful. Sam was proving to be useful to Lucifer's plan after all.

Sam was a prisoner in his own mind, unable to do anything. He was a small, weak thought that decided to nag Lucifer at inopportune moments. No, he was not jealous of Sam. After all, he was Sam, or what Sam had been. It was Lucifer's body now, and Sam was of little use, Lucifer planned to get rid of him.

As he realized that Sam was irrelevant the drowsiness in the back of his mind began to clear. He could feel Sam becoming more alert. He smiled and untangled himself from Astoreth. His moment of passion was complete. Now he needed pain.

Lucifer walked out into the soft flurries. Sam's jeans provided no protection from the cold. He walked barefoot in the snow to the ocean front. The foam splashed up against his bare chest. Sam shivered against the cold but Lucifer didn't flinch.

_What are you doing? Are you suicidal you idiot? Humans can't survive in this._ Sam's voice was wrought with shivers.

_I'm not suicidal. I'm homicidal and I am not actually human. Lucifer rolled his eyes._

_This body is human! I am human!_

_That's the idea._

The icy water stung his skin, sending shocks through his warm muscles. Lucifer allowed each jolt to waken him from the dullness of Sam's human mind.

_He visited Eden often to tend the plants and animals. They walked freely up to him and thanked him from the sun that lit the sky. Each played a part in the garden's life._

He paced deeper into the crashing surf. He could feel his body temperature dropping slowly. Lucifer stopped when the water swayed over his chest. Sam wanted to start shaking uncontrollably.

_The bright sun warmed him to the core. It had been his final creation. Father needed something to light his garden. Everything lived because of the sun._

His breathing slowed and his heart followed. Purple and blue had crept into his skin and his blood moved sluggishly through his limbs. His muscles twitched at the lack of oxygen and Lucifer shivered. Sam's mind was numb and failing. Half formed words fell useless against Lucifer's mind.

_Lucifer spread his arms and took in the sun. He drew in the energy hungrily. It blazed through him with familiar power. He felt Eden shudder. He saw his father's new creations enjoying the garden with disregard to the order of everything._

Lucifer let Sam feel this last memory. A beautiful image and the feeling of power coursing through his limbs. Sam gasped at the heat, the life, the power coursing through him. Lucifer smiled.

Then he drowned Sam in his pain

Lucifer slid to his knees, completely submerging his body in the salty water. His limbs moved sluggishly and he could feel Sam screaming in the back of his mind. His heart struggled now. The beats were inconsistent and faltering. Lucifer's lungs ached with the need for air.

The scream became a discernable word in the rhythmic slosh of the ocean. A mournful cry. _Dean!_ Sam's voice faded with the drunkenness of death.

Finally, his heart stopped; it was a jarring jolt of pain. His muscles released and he floated weightless in the icy water. The darkness surrounded him as his body swayed with the tide. The ocean beat against his chest with a pulsing cadence.

The water grew lighter. A murky glow filtered through the darkness. Lucifer felt his heart start. He felt his body jerk back into life. He shot out of the frozen water and spread his pure black wings. His face pulled up to Heaven with his eyes closed and face serene. His jeans dripped as the rising sun broke through the clouds.

Lucifer spread his arms and took in the fierce blaze burning the horizon. He drew in the energy hungrily. It raced through him with familiar power. He felt the world shudder. A smile crept across his lips as he basked in the sky.

He landed silently in the snow and walked back to Astoreth. His bare chest and back radiated heat. Each snowflake melted within inches of Lucifer's body. The snow melted around his foot prints. He flexed his wings before furling them against his back. Their comfortable weight balanced him.

Lucifer stepped back into the cabin to find Astoreth dressed, her wet black hair shining blue. She looked up as he walked in. She smiled. "So it worked."

"Yes," Lucifer grinned.

"You are restored. Perfect. And the Winchester?"

"Samuel Winchester is dead. Zacharias provided an adequate sacrifice."

"How did you do it?" She stepped behind him and traced Lucifer's shoulder blades, his black wings.

"I merely possessed this body before. I needed to become essentially human and kill my vessel in order to regain a mirror of my grace, and consequently all my previous power" he stated calmly.

"What color was your hair?" She looked between Sam's brown locks and Lucifer's black wings, curiously.

"How is that relevant?"

"It's not," she mumbled dejectedly. "What do we do next?"

Lucifer turned to face her. "We meet up with Beelzebub. When we get there I'll need you to lead the assault on the chosen savior."

"Dean Winchester? You know where he is?"

"Currently driving toward a small town in Indiana. I need you to get there first. This blow will cripple him significantly. It will also provide adequate distraction for our plan to move forward."

"Can I kill him?"

Lucifer laughed roughly. "You wouldn't be able to," he stated with complete sincerity. He noticed the hurt look on her face and lifted her chin. "I am the only one capable of that."

"Why? He is only human."

"He is only human. Dean was trained to kill demons all his life and you are no different. Now that he is Heaven's new savior, his soul is much greater than it was. He is equal to an angel in some respects. You won't have any power over him as you would with other humans. Without a body I was unable to kill him the first time. Not much can kill him now."

"So he's invincible."

"Hardly. He is protected. He is kept safe by a Heavenly being. But he is still human in body, as the other Winchester was."

"We take out his protection then." Astoreth smiled.

"Only an angel knows how kill another angel. And the price is high to commit such a crime. No demon will be able to destroy his protection."

She placed her hands on his exposed chest. Lucifer felt only her soft touch. "But you can kill him? Does this make you one of God's angel's again?"

"I can never be my Father's slave again. I would never want to." He gripped her wrists. "But I have regained my grace in a way." Lucifer hands glowed against Astoreth's and her skin flushed with heat. The cabin walls disappeared to be replaced by the bar from the night before. Beelzebub sat at the bar, his neck tucked protectively behind his jacket collar.

Lucifer released Astoreth's wrists and walked up silently to the bar. "Progress?" Beelzebub jumped at Lucifer's voice. His wings flexed around his shoulders, the black feathers settling softly. Astoreth stepped in behind him, her hands slid around his right forearm. She tucked herself under his wing. Lucifer ignored her touches.

"Of course. The demons that followed you… The first resistance… They have found an adequate number of human's to possess while avoiding small children at the moment. They are in favor of adults only for their strength and mobility."

Beelzebub swallowed. "The humans not fit for possession for the first battle have been captured and guarded. We own everything within a hundred mile radius of the convent, with an ever expanding army. We're almost at full capacity for the first regiments."

"Excellent. We attack at dusk. We will need to prepare the rest of our forces. Ready the elites to strike the capitals. Cut the head off the snake…" Lucifer mumbled. He pulled Beelzebub's collar back with his free hand and watched as the demon shivered. The snake still rested coiled at the base of his neck.

Lucifer pulled his hand back and motioned Beelzebub up. He walked out with both demons to raise his army. His mind was peacefully silent. Suddenly, his thoughts felt too quiet, like something was there when it wasn't supposed to be.


	3. The Father and The Son

Sorry this took forever. Busy week. Enjoy!

When Dean slid in behind the wheel of the Impala and realized his baby was alright, relief flooded his mind. The passenger door clicked shut and Dean flinched. His body yelled Sammy; it was instinct. It took a moment for his mind to register that Sammy wasn't here anymore. Castiel stared into the night. His eyes took in the darkness without really seeing.

Dean missed the Impala and refused to let Castiel take them everywhere. Dean wouldn't admit it but seeing the world melt around him was disconcerting. He preferred his foot on the gas pedal, hands on the wheel, and rock on the radio.

He pulled the car onto the street, reveling in the mere ecstasy of seeing nothing but the road in front of him. "Cas?" The angel glanced over. "Where do we go?"

"I'm not sure where to head first but Lucifer will be on the move. We need to get outside of his control."

"What will he do first?" Dean found the exit for a vacant highway. His headlights glowed ominously in the dark.

"Lucifer will raise his generals to organize his growing army," Castiel's voice was level and without emotion.

"Who are his generals?" The Impala rumbled behind Dean's words.

"Beelzebub is the planner. He will be in charge of organizing and setting into motion Lucifer's attacks. He is a deceitful little creature," Castiel scowled at the statement.

"He has more than one? Too good to lead his own army?"

"Astoreth." The name hung rank in the air. Dean suppressed a shiver. "Astoreth will do Lucifer's dirty work; plot, connive, assassinate, recruit, and even lead the charge next to him. Lucifer relies on Astoreth, more than Beelzebub, to bring death and destruction."

"This sounds like one fucked up bastard." Dean didn't want to meet this guy.

"She is a walking time bomb of pain and misery. It's in her every step, every word. She's pure poison to the world," Castiel stated flatly.

"Wait, Lucifer's second in command is a chick?"

"Yes, Astoreth is a female demon. She was one of the first demons to follow Lilith into Hell. She was a pagan idol in the ancient cities. The people believed she was the embodiment of a Norse goddess. The pain she wrought was horrible." Castiel glanced away in disgust. "Anyway, I would not like to come across her again. Gabriel banished her and Beelzebub to a prison equal to Lucifer's in Hell. It has been millennia since she has been free."

"Oh, good. So not only is she the meanest bitch ever, but she's pissed off as well."

"She is Hell's wrath in its purest form."

"So how does Lucifer raise these sons of bitches?"

"Beelzebub and Astoreth will mark two humans and Lucifer must get their acceptance before the demons can enter the bodies. It breaks their imprisonment."

"What idiot would accept that deal?"

"The demons will influence the humans. Beelzebub need only make his human look at Lucifer. Astoreth needs a kiss."

"That won't be hard," Dean growled. Not many could resist Sam if he turned on the charm. "So we're fucked."

"Yes, in a manner." Castiel looked back out the window.

"What will their next move be?"

"You," Castiel said.

"Me," Dean laughed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You are a threat. They will need to take you out sooner or later. Lucifer will send Astoreth."

"Great, another vengeful bitch."

"She won't attack you directly, but you have no family to attack, so I cannot tell what her next move might be. She will try and cause you the most harm possible."

The Impala screeched to a halt in the middle of the highway. Dean spun the wheel and took off in the other direction. "Where are we going?"

"I know where she's headed."

Worry raced through Dean's bones as memories of his dreams haunted him. Stop thinking. He focused on the road again; they had a long road ahead of them.

"Where are we going?" Castiel broke his stiff pose to turn his gaze on Dean.

"I have something I need to do," Dean glanced in his rear view mirror to avoid Castiel's eyes. He stifled a groan as the radio paused at the song's end, leaving the car completely silent.

"What is more important than hunting down Lucifer, or even Astoreth," Castiel's voice was too loud in the silence.

_You're listening to the greatest radio station in Cicero where we play all your classic rock favorites. Coming up next Devil went down to Georgia, Highway to Hell, and God only Knows. But first a message from our sponsors._

"That's what I'm doing. I know where she is headed," Dean replied.

"How?"

"Because I know where S- Lucifer would send her."

_Need to get somewhere fast? Need to get there in a timely fashion. Well I'm Sam Angel and I can fill your transportation needs down here at Angel Ford of Indiana. I can get you where you need to go…_

Castiel looked out the windshield in time to see the passing street sign. _Welcome to Cicero, Indiana._ "What is in Cicero?"

"Damn it, Cas. Would you stop, please?"

"Why, if we are going there anyway, will you not tell me what you need to do?"

Dean sighed. His hands clenched around the wheel and he glanced over at the angel's expression. It was still impassive as usual. "I have a couple people I know in Cicero. I need to make sure they are alright. I need to get them to safety."

"Who are they to you?" The question sounded harmless but Dean's mind inserted the underlying question. _Who are they to you that you would risk humanity to save them? _

"Important people, maybe enough to get them killed," Dean growled. The Impala's headlights lit another sign. _Morning Hill._ The houses all looked similar but he pulled the car through the streets with perfect memory.

_…your valuables are always safe when you use Bob Heaven's space and storage. We guarantee the protection of anything you leave with us. Protection is our policy. We're located on Lawrence Hill Road, Cicero…_

Dean pulled up to a house very similar to every other house on the block. Castiel looked up and down the street but shook his head like he couldn't tell the difference between one house and the next. The gentle roar of the Impala died and Dean pocketed the keys. Castiel opened his door as Dean climbed out of the car.

He silently followed Dean to the dark wood and glass door. He pressed the door bell forcefully. Even as the chimes echoed about the house Dean pressed the button again, setting the tones off from the start.

The house looked the same as when Dean and Sam had stopped by almost two years ago, but when she came running down the stair Dean couldn't stop staring at her. She was bathed in a warm, creamy radiance. _Fingertips gliding under his skin._ Dean remembered the feel of her hips in his hands, her lips on his. _Lucifer saw human's like this?_

The curtain over the glass moved and Lisa's tired face peered through. It looked just as Dean remembered it, human and normal. Dean moved into the porch light so that she could recognize him. At first she seemed confused but instinct made her open the door.

"Dean?" Lisa's voice was drawled by sleep.

"Lisa, you need to get Ben and we need to go now."

"What are you talking about? Go where?"

"You're not safe here," Dean grabbed her shoulders gently.

"Come inside," Lisa offered.

"Lisa. We don't have time. We have to go." Dean felt a twinge in the back of his mind. He spun and Castiel followed suit.

A small woman drifted across the street. The pavement cracked under her heels. Her tight black shirt hugged her gentle features. The wind caught her black hair until the vines climbing the side of her face were exposed in the dull light.

Dean stared into the black hole where she should have been. It was darker than the night around her and small tendrils of light laced her entire form. The vines twined around her arms and legs, all sprouting from her torso and glowing like fire. He could feel her movements. Silent were her steps, but each footfall echoed in Dean's ears.

"No," Castiel mumbled.

"What?" Dean asked. He could only guess it was Astoreth. Lisa looked back and forth between Castiel and Dean.

"It can't be," Castiel mumbled, stiffening in his trench coat.

"I told you."

A laugh rumbled across the street. "Dean Winchester. Come out and play, Dean." He could feel Castiel's eyes on him. "Come on. Your little brother says hi."

Dean pushed Lisa. "Watch them, if anything happens… disappear."

"You are not going to fight her alone, Dean. She is dangerous." Castiel moved to step past Dean, but his chest hit Dean's outstretched hand.

"I'm not leaving Lisa and Ben here without protection. She doesn't want to talk to you, Cas. She wants to talk to me. Now, wait for me inside. I can handle this." Castiel faltered and made eye contact with the approaching woman before retreating into the house.

The door shut and he knew Lisa and Castiel were watching through the window. Dean walked into the street. He stopped twelve feet from the woman. "You rang?"

She laughed, "Always so witty when the odds are against you." Her voice was like liquid chocolate, velvety smooth. She laughed again and footsteps rang in the night.

Demons surrounded him in the dull street lamp. Dean counted the number of steps and glanced around to get a count. Eleven to one, great. They circled, but kept their distance.

"Dean Winchester." Astoreth bit her lip and moaned softly. The gentle sway of her hips as she walked forward made each word caress his ears. The pavement continued to crack under her feet. "I so would have enjoyed _your_ company last night. Don't get me wrong. Sam's body is great in bed but from what I hear you're even better..."

She trailed her hand across his shoulders as she circled him. Her touch was soft under Dean's leather jacket but it left a burning sensation trailing behind it. She smelled familiar to Dean. "I have to say it was fun either way."

She leaned in close, and Dean could clearly tell what she smelled like now. She smelled like _Sam._ She whispered in his ear, "I bet you taught him everything he knows." Her breath was hot against his skin, almost acrid.

Dean scowled. She circled again and moved in close to his other ear. He stayed motionless as her lips brushed his cheek, a kiss of acid. "I bet…" Her breath was heavy as she sighed, sulfur rolling off her breath. "…when you two were alone in those motel rooms… you taught him a few tricks." She swung her hips forward dramatically and continued to dance around him, creating a circle of corroded cement.

"Where is he?" Dean's eyes followed her swift movements.

Astoreth stopped in front of him. "Where is who, darling?" She laid her hands on his shoulders as she stepped in closer. The constant touch burned gently.

"Where is my brother? Where is Sam?" Dean's hand twitched. The knife hilt fell into his palm.

"Your brother is dead, sweetheart. Lucifer killed his pathetic little mind. You should see him in his true glory, Dean. Lucifer is all powerful, the greatest of all angels. And now, he has taken Sam's body as his own and become the first angel to truly exist, to obtain a physical form not inhabited by another. You can't stop him now." She laughed, low and smooth.

"You're a fucking liar. My brother isn't dead," Dean said.

"What was that? Denial? Well I have witnessed Lucifer's restoration, and there is nothing you can do to save Sam. It's Lucifer's body now, and his alone. Sam was a wonderful choice… So…I'll give you a few options and I do hope you choose the right one." She raised one hand in the air, counting as she spoke. "Join Lucifer in creating paradise on earth."

Dean laughed. "What, a barren waste land without life? No thank you."

"Lucifer used to tend Eden. It isn't what you imagine it will be. See, you are one of the few who are not worthless and destructive. He could find a place for you in his garden. Maybe in other places too." She smiled longingly. She stepped back, relieving Dean of the burden of her hand.

"Go fuck yourself."

"I've got Sam for that," she giggled as Dean cringed. "Fine, don't play along. Option two." Her second finger went up. "You die here in a pool of your own blood as your loved ones watch. So what's it going to be?"

"One. You know nothing about them. And two. Maybe I'll just send all you sons of bitches back into the pit where you belong."

"You are so sexy when you try to be all macho." Astoreth laughed and pressed her lips to Dean's, pulling his head down with her soft fingers. The kiss shot fire through his veins as she held him almost powerless. Dean's limbs grew weak. The darkness threatened to swallow him; her lips were so soft and hot. Finally, Astoreth pulled back.

Dean couldn't stop himself from leaning toward her, lips burnt, as if expectant of another kiss. "I'm sorry you have to die," Astoreth whispered against his mouth, hand still curled gently around his neck. Her fingers grasped at his short hair. "We could have had so much fun." Her other fist connected solidly with Dean's cheek, sending him stumbling into the closing circle.

Astoreth laughed heartily and the demons chuckled hungrily with her. The woman nodded and the demons descended. A thick man jumped at Dean from the right and met with thin air as Dean stepped to his left. A punch landed on his ribs as he broke a housewife's nose. He cringed and grabbed the kid's arm and drove the knife under his ribs. Light shattered though his too-dark form. The body collapsed to the pavement. Dean twirled the blade skillfully.

For a second everyone froze, staring at the body. Dean latched onto another arm and slid the blade into the demon's chest. He watched light crack through her form and she, too, dropped to the pavement. The demons didn't stay shocked for too long and attacked all at once. The knife was knocked away and Dean scrambled to find it.

One demon wearing a business suit landed a few solid punches to his stomach, but Dean grabbed the man's throat and the demon dissolved in a flash of light. His hands tingled and he reached for another demon. Each one he touched shattered in light and collapsed before him.

A well placed kick drove Dean to his knees. A women dove on top of him, clawing him before she lost control; Dean grabbed her throat and tossed her unconscious body off of him.

Astoreth watched Dean take a beating from the sidelines. He caught glimpses of her smirk. He fought off all ten demons until he stood alone.

She laughed again and clapped for his success. Dean stepped over the fallen cheerleader and the half dressed high school wrestler. He picked up the shining knife from the pavement and ran toward her.

"Well done, Dean," she shouted as he charged. He buried his knife in her chest, except suddenly there was no chest. She was gone and Dean found himself stabbing thin air.

"Damn it," he shouted.

Astoreth danced to the right, only a few feet away. Toying with Dean, she moved closer to Lisa's house. "Ha, you are so cute." Dean lunged again and she easily twisted out of reach. "That the best you can do."

Dean feinted left and caught her mid spin. The knife grazed her arm and Dean saw the vines tattooed on her skin flare with light. He spun and grabbed her throat. Her skin burned, but Dean only strengthened his grasp as he thrust the blade toward her stomach.

Astoreth caught his arm. They pushed the blade back and forth. Dean felt the tingle in his hand and she started to gasp. He pushed the knife further, the tip sliding into her soft stomach.

Light raced through her like lightning. Astoreth gasped and held on. Dean pushed the knife a little deeper and her grip started to waver.

Fire brushed Dean's arm; that familiar sensation of power spread rapidly across his skin. Astoreth slid backwards. Dean let go and the knife rested bloody in his hands. A long tan arm was wrapped around her shoulders and a hand covered the knife wound. Lucifer's brilliant eyes stared at Dean. So unlike Sam's soft hazel eyes, they startled him; they shouldn't be that shade.

In the gray of the street lamps Dean saw Lucifer's pure light, marred only by the black of the demon in his clutches. Shadow-black wings arched from Sam's back and Dean stumbled backward in surprise. The light faded to Sam's warm tan skin but the wings remained darker than the night around them.

"Sam," Dean whispered. His brother was right there, right in front of him.

"Sam is dead." Lucifer's voice was hollow and deep. The world paused to listen.

"No," Dean muttered, the knife falling from his hand.

"I killed him. It wasn't difficult really," Lucifer stated. His hand fell back to reveal Astoreth's stomach. The wound was gone.

"Sam!" He couldn't be dead, no, Sam was alive. Dean was sure of it.

Lucifer's eyes dulled to a sorrowful hazel glow and he took half a step back.

Dean shuddered at the color, human and perfect and so painfully far away. Lucifer blinked and the blood red was restored. Dean gasped back a sob as the hazel disappeared. He would never see that color again.

"Until next time _Brother_." The two figures condensed in a flash of light, disappearing.

The blood on Dean's lip brought the metallic taste back to his mouth. He licked it away as he stared down the street. His burnt lips stung in the cold.

Castiel was by his side a moment later. "Dean?"

"I'm fine." Dean limped toward the house. "We need to leave, now."

Castiel pressed a hand to Dean's ribs, making him wince. "Don't lie." After walking into the living room, Dean fell onto the couch, relieved to be sitting. Castiel pushed him against the back of the couch, and pulled up his shirt. Dean's protest was muffled by Lisa's gasp. She stared at the long red scars racing down his chest. The yellowish bruise that covered his stomach was darkening again but the discomfort was nowhere near the pain of the night before.

"Dean?"

"I'm fine." Turning on Castiel he argued, "I've lived through worse." He saw the swirling in Castiel's eyes again and paused. "Cas?" The angel laid his hand on Dean's forehead and calm rolled over him again.

Dean felt his breathing still considerably. He could feel his heart rate slowing. Slowly drifting under Castiel's influence, Dean tried to breath faster. Instead, his breathing just hitched as his eyes drooped. It took all his strength to grab Castiel's arm and pull it away. The angel gasped and staggered back. "Dean?"

"What the… What were you trying to do?" Dean licked his lips. They were no longer burnt and the cut on the corner of his mouth was no longer swollen. The remaining bruises were gone and even his old scars were not as defined. Dean shook the drowsiness from his eyes.

"I don't quite know," Castiel placed his hand on the wall to steady himself.

"Next time, don't get so carried away," Dean grumbled.

Lisa's eyes followed Castiel as he began to pace the room Dean sighed and glanced at Castiel.  
"What just happened?" Lisa was still following Castiel around the room with a wary gaze. She wasn't used to Dean's world. "You just fought off… my neighbors… and, and, and… then, he heals you?"

"Lisa, this is Castiel. He's… He's an angel." The comment still sounded crazy, even to Dean.

"An angel? Who do you think I am, Dean? I'm not just going to believe all this shit. I just got over that incident two year ago. No…"

"Lisa," Castiel said smoothly. "I am an angel of the Lord."

"You're both crazy," Lisa argued.

Dean glanced at Castiel as he shifted. The dark shape moved against Castiel's shoulders again. He saw a defined and radiant outline of that _something_ he couldn't identify before. Shadowy wings hugged Castiel's back, flexing and arching every few moments, completely prepared.

"We aren't lying, Lisa," Dean looked back at her.

"So he's your… guardian angel?" Sarcasm dripped from her voice.

"Well… yeah, I guess," Dean's eyes found Castiel again. An odd twinge ran through his chest. It was painless, a simple reminder of what had been.

"What the fuck," Lisa muttered, "is wrong with you two."

A random crack of thunder and a flash of light and Castiel's wings appeared as shadows on the wall.

Dean jumped. _Crisp white feathers._ Castiel's wings were outlined in his light. _Feather's soft against his cheek_. Dean closed his eyes and shook his head. Lisa had jumped too. The wings faded with the light.

"I am an angel of the Lord," Castiel's voice became deeply beautiful and startlingly awful. "I have fought Lucifer in the Garden of Eden, and for Hazael against Jehoram of Israel; I was present in Nazareth, and at Bethlehem. I serve in the first order of the archangel Michael."

"Cas?" Dean jumped in at the pause. Lisa was in awe. The angel glanced over at him and then seemed to calm noticeably at the sound of Dean's voice. Castiel's expression softened and he settled.

"I'm sorry," Castiel lowered his head before glancing at Lisa. "I did not intend to scare you."

"We need to go, now," Dean stated as he stood. His leg felt impeccable. Castiel nodded and Dean turned to Lisa. "Please, it isn't safe."

"Why? What's after us?"

"Hell on earth," Castiel mumbled bluntly.

Dean sighed. Lisa seemed incredulous. "He's right. " Lisa's jaw dropped even further. "That's why we're here, to get you some place safe."

"Why are they after us?"

"Because they are going after anyone close to Dean. You are his only family. Because your son is Dean's son," Castiel cut in.

Lisa paused. The stutter of a denial caught on her tongue. She glared angrily at Castiel for a moment.

"I… I can explain… You were, well… _you_." Lisa turned toward Dean. "I didn't want to tie you down. I didn't think you wanted…"

"I would have been proud. I am proud." His voice was even, a calming combination of understanding and sorrow. "There wasn't much I could do at the time, but I'm here now. He has Sam's eyes and my taste in music… and women… When we were in the basement he saved all the kids down there before he tried to save himself. It's what I would have done." Dean smiled to himself. "Proudest moment of my life."

Castiel pulled the corner of the curtain back. "Dean, we need to leave now."

He headed for the door. Lisa followed ran up stairs without a second thought. She brought Ben down moments later. The eleven year old looked heavy and slightly more gangly than two years ago. Dean took Ben and led them out to the Impala.

He laid his son in the back seat where the boy yawned and resumed his slumber. Castiel climbed in the passenger seat. _Not Sam._ The Impala roared to life as Dean whipped it out of the driveway. Demons were flooding the street as Dean swerved around them.

They were all glad to leave Morning Hill behind. Dean watched the pitch black eyes glimmer like oil in the streetlights. They soon dissolved behind him.

"Would you have stayed? If I had asked you too," Lisa leaned forward against the front bench.

"I… I don't think so, Lisa," Dean muttered.

She nodded. "Why not?"

"Because I wasn't in any position to make life changes at the time," Dean said smoothly.

"What was stopping you? You clearly wanted to be part of Ben's life. I considered telling you, but I couldn't get a hold of you."

"I was not in a good place when I visited you. I didn't have much time left."

"Before what?"

"Never mind. It doesn't matter. I was gone for a while and then I came back." Dean wanted to get as far from this topic as possible.

"I don't understand."

"Before he died and went to Hell for four months." Dean flinched at Castiel's tactless approach. He shot the angel a glare.

Lisa laughed in the back seat. They both glanced back at her until she realized the sincerity of Castiel's words. "Wait… What?"

"Long story short, I sold my soul and went to Hell to save my brother. Four months later, Cas pulls me out of the pit. End of story." Dean didn't like telling Lisa about this.

"You went to Hell?" Her voice was incredulous again, nearly waking Ben.

"Yeah."

"But…"

"You don't want to go any further, Lisa. Drop the subject."

The Impala grew quite as all three of them stared in different directions. Dean flipped the radio to a local rock station. Hell's Bells by AC/DC came softly through the speakers.

_You're only young but you're gonna die. I won't take no prisoners, won't spare no live. Nobody's putting up a fight. I got my bell, I'm gonna take you to hell. I'm gonna get ya, Satan get ya._

Dean sighed and flipped the radio off.

"Where are we going?" Castiel broke the silence.

Dean huffed. He felt the name of a town in the back of his mind. Lisa turned slightly, as if she wanted the answer as well. "Lawrence, Kansas." Dean finally said.

"What's in Kansas," Lisa asked.

"I'm not sure yet."


	4. The Beginning

Sorry for the long wait, life is hectic…

I will try and post again as soon as possible.

Lucifer felt her pain. It shot through him like it was his own. He looked up from the map.

"What is it?" Beelzebub asked, slightly flustered that his explanation was being interrupted. His finger still hovered over the pins placed across the world map.

"Astoreth," Lucifer growled. He paced across the bar, his wings twitching against his back. Another shot of pain, this one was stronger and threatened to pull Astoreth into the void. "Fuck!"

Lucifer turned his face up and allowed the bar to melt around him. Beelzebub's annoyed grumble echoed even as the street materialized around him.

Astoreth was choking in Dean's grip, the knife an inch deep in her stomach. A bolt light ran through her darkened frame as the blade slid deeper. Dean was snarling as he saw her grip begin to falter.

Another stream of light shot through Astoreth from head to toe. Dean's eyes followed. Interesting. Lucifer wondered how Dean was able to see the light or if by some coincidence his eyes followed something he couldn't actually see.

Astoreth's grip was slipping quickly. She gasped and held on to Dean's wrist. Lucifer slid his arm around her shoulders, just under Dean's arm. Their skin brushed and Lucifer felt fire consume his arm, it was a familiar but overwhelming sensation. There was a pull, an attraction, a need.

Lucifer jerked Astoreth back and Dean's grip slipped from her throat. Lucifer placed a hand over the wound but didn't heal it. Astoreth whimpered against his chest.

"Sam?" The name electrified the air.

"Sam is dead." Everything went silent, as if mourning this fact.

"No." The knife clattered on the pavement. And sorrow gripped Lucifer for an instant.

Lucifer shook off the feeling. Confusion was not something he should experience. The belief that was so ingrained in those green eyes made him stumble over his words.

"I killed him." Astoreth faltered against his arms, leaning on his support. "It wasn't difficult really." Lucifer removed his hand slowly. Astoreth calmed. The wound was gone.

"Sam!"

Lucifer shuddered. He couldn't repress the physical response to Dean's call. Lucifer's blood red eyes faltered. He felt the hazel return before he could stop it. He stepped back and blinked.

"Until next time _Brother_." The street melted, but Lucifer couldn't erase the image of Dean's face.

The shabby walls reformed around him, as Lucifer let go of Astoreth. She stumbled away from him. His right hand met her jaw in a deafening smack.

The bar went silent as a crack rang out over the noise. Black eyes turned from their weapons and maps to the center of the bar.

Lucifer unfurled his black wings in the rundown room; it made him seem even larger. They arched backwards, making demons dart out of the way. Lucifer stared at Astoreth with vehemence as she cowered from his first blow.

"What were you thinking?" Lucifer's words were calm but there was thunder in his voice.

"What else was I supposed to do? He was already-"

Another crack echoed across the room. Lucifer backhanded Astoreth's face with such force that it sent her reeling against the bar. Lucifer could feel the back of his hand tingling painlessly from the contact, so much more in tune with Sam's body than before.

"I told you to kill his son. An eleven year old boy." _Sam had a nephew?_ Lucifer brushed the thought aside. "I didn't tell you to confront him outright, you imbecile," Lucifer's voice was low.

"He was already there. He wasn't going to let me anywhere near that boy," Astoreth's voice rose.

"Are you not intelligent enough to find a way around him? You ignored my one warning," Lucifer stepped forward. He grabbed Astoreth's chin and made her look him in the eyes. "I told you not to fight him."

"I-"

A shiver ran through his mind. "You would have died." Lucifer's hand rested over the hole in Astoreth's shirt. Lightning shot through her and she gasped. Astoreth's dark blue eyes were locked with Lucifer's. The shock ran through him as well. "I would be without a general." The lightning cracked again and she cringed. Lucifer swallowed. "Start following my orders or next time I will let you die on the end of his knife," he whispered harshly in Astoreth's ear.

Sam's boots echoed across the sawdust covered floor as Lucifer walked. He stopped a few steps away to turn back to Astoreth. "Do you understand me?"

"Yes." Astoreth clutched at her stomach but there was no wound under her shirt.

Lucifer's wings settled and curled around his back. Their weight hung comfortably from his shoulders. "Beelzebub!"

The man was snickering over one of the maps. "Yes, Lucifer."

"Continue!"

"Of course." Beelzebub couldn't keep the smile off his face. "I have aligned your forces in position to take DC, London, Paris, Berlin, and nearly every other capital in the world. They have their assignments. Infiltration first, open war second. We will have every world leader working for us." Beelzebub turned to the map. "Once we have political position we will be able to wipe out the entire human population. There will be no resistance."

"Humans have become indifferent. They won't fight back unless a gun is waved in their face. They won't even know what is happening until it's too late," Astoreth stated as she leaned over the map.

Lucifer nodded to her. Concern and relief flooded him, but he didn't let the emotions show. It unsettled him to feel like this. "Proceed," he commanded Beelzebub. "Astoreth I want you to oversee this operation." Both generals scowled at each other.

"Of course," Astoreth mumbled as she shot Beelzebub an evil grin. He ground his teeth and looked back at the map.

"You will know when to commence the attack?"

"When the light of dawn dies," Beelzebub began.

"The reign of Hell begins," Astoreth finished. Her smile grew as her eyes darkened.

"Right we have some time before the sun rises. Nothing can truly happen until then. Enjoy this. We have waited too long not to have some fun," Lucifer ordered with a smile.

Astoreth's grin faltered. "Where are you going?" She moved toward him. As if she could stop him.

Lucifer grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the bar. He stopped just out of earshot.

He turned suddenly. "To do what you could not. I don't want him interfering."

"He won't interfere. The end of times will be well on the way before he fights back. By then he won't be able to do anything."

"He is not every other human. He will not sit by until it affects him. It already has. He lost his brother and he stands to lose his son. He will be more deadly to our cause if we do nothing."

Astoreth scowled. "He is driving somewhere, right? Kansas. He will be plenty busy for awhile."

"He will arrive just after dawn."

"Then he will be too late," she argued. "Come with us. Revel in the fruitions of our plans. Leave him for a night."

"I can't," Lucifer growled.

"Why not," she muttered through clenched teeth.

"Because he is dangerous," Lucifer looked into the night, avoiding her eyes.

Astoreth laughed, the noise was short and harsh. "That isn't the reason. I can tell when you are hiding something. Millennia have given me that."

"We can't have him causing more problems."

Throwing her hands in the air, Astoreth sighed. "You can't hide things from me, Lucifer. You want to see him. You… You regret something," she stuttered in surprise, completely confident that she was right.

"I should have killed him in the convent." In reality, Lucifer wasn't sure why he hadn't ended all his problems right then and there. Something had held him back.

As if she read his mind, Astoreth rested a hand on his chest and whispered, "Why didn't you?"

He faltered.

"You could have killed him." She could see the scene playing out in his eyes. "He was in your grasp. You wounded him when you tore through his chest… And yet you allowed him to be healed and become the problem that he is. Why?"

"Do not question my decisions." Lucifer grabbed her wrist and pulled it back. Astoreth's skin left a burning sensation running up his arm and across his chest. He let the lot dissolve around him.

The shore front was deserted, and the snow glowed blue in the moon light. Soft waves crashed noisily below and the foam shimmered on the dark waters. A hint of predawn light was killing the serenity of the landscape.

He stared at the world without his enhanced sight, through Sam's eyes. His Father's creation really was beautiful. But the end was here. The world had to burn; it had to die. He made a sudden promise to no one at all.

Lucifer would rebuild the beauty and surround himself with life.

The sun moved quickly toward the dawn, as if it suspected someone was waiting for it. But he still had some time.

His wings expanded to take him into the sky. Lucifer skimmed the water with his hand and ice shot up Sam's arm as the nerves tingled with the sensation. He swooped below the surface. Cold pressed against him.

Lucifer rose up into the sky, water dripping from his body. He stared at the still-dark sky longingly. The sun would rise soon.

He let his wings take him higher in the sky, their rhythmic beat counting the moments of freedom. He hovered above the clouds. His lungs burned but they weren't necessary. A tingle ran down his skin.

Slow soft movements kept him hovering, gently bobbing in the sky. The first of the sun's rays shot across his face. Peaceful. They way he had intended them to be. He didn't want to hide the glory shining down on him.

The light warmed the frozen water on his skin drying his body. More rays consumed the sky and he was submerged in their warmth. He trailed his hands through them; they ran between his fingers like water.

The sun crested. A fiery arc of power. A single tear slid down Lucifer's cheek. _Why would he cry?_

Such human emotions were weak, useless. Sam was right; he didn't know how to feel… And he preferred it that way.

The sun was beautiful and full of energy. So much power in the light. Only one could burn that bright.

_Sam!_

Lucifer dropped a few feet. Dean's cry rang out in his mind again. Prolonged and pleading, the voice sent heat across his skin. A burning figure flashed in his memory. The voice made him want to shiver. He shook his head and the sound faded, but the bright image of Dean held for a moment longer.

He rose back up and stared at the sun. Lucifer's hands balled into fists as he glared at the burning light. He felt it flare. He felt something fight him; it nearly won. He felt the light flicker and then…

It was gone.

The light had winked out. The sky was consumed by darkness once more. The power was infinitely unsettling. It flowed within him in a great torrent of anger. Sam's skin was ready to burst with the energy jumping off it. For a moment Lucifer let the power run its course sending his muscles twitching.

He took in a breath and the morning smelled like heaven; it felt like grace. Lucifer caught himself longing for his brethren.

No.

Lucifer was here to bring about the end of the world. He was here to prove that he was right and God was wrong. With that hateful thought the sparks of energy running rampant through his flesh focused. It ran like a river through him, a torrent of feeling. Lucifer focused. He slid beneath the clouds. He heard the laughter for miles; it came to his ears in a menacing chuckle. He smiled a little.

His revenge had begun.

Lucifer watched from above as demons flooded the ground. His heightened sight let him view the horrors below. Pitch black, they were scars moving across the ground.

The end of time was here.

He swooped down over Astoreth and Beelzebub running with the demons. Beelzebub's awkward gait barely kept pace with Astoreth's fluid steps. Her cry pierced the air when she heard his wings. It was joyous and terrifying.

Lucifer pulled up sharply, laughing with his generals as he watched them black out the ground.

The noise echoed even after he disappeared. The street was dark as the Impala rumbled into the drive way. The For Sale sign fluttered in the wind. Lucifer glanced at the house. It was lifeless.

An instinctual shiver ran down his spine.

Home.

He felt Dean turn his head. Instantly Lucifer disappeared. The house materialized across the street. Dean stared directly at where he had been a moment before.

A woman, _Lisa_ his mind provided, climbed out of the back seat with a boy asleep on her shoulder. He was Dean's son. It was clear from boy's features. And if he were Dean's son, the boy could be a vessel, like Sam; it ran deep in the blood of this family.

Lucifer's brother appeared next to Dean and scanned the neighborhood. Castiel could not see him in the dark. Lucifer stared through the vessel his sibling was wearing. Castiel had not changed over the millennia. He was still timid and thoughtful. He could fight though and was not to be underestimated.

They walked up to the house quietly. Castiel vanished again and the door opened from the inside. Though they disappeared when they entered the house Lucifer watched their movements carefully still knowing where they were.

Castiel did not need to sleep but Dean had just driven for hours.

He needed rest.


	5. Dream of Me

Hey! Sorry for the delay, classes have been retched. So enjoy this chapter and I will try and post again next week end.

Let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: don't own 'em yada yada

The Impala's constant rumble slowed. When the loud purring of the engine died, a startled gasp issued from the back seat.

Dean glanced back to find Lisa looking around with sleep-sore eyes. She rubbed her hand over her face when she noticed him watching her.

Castiel stared intently at the dark house looming through the windshield. Dean opened the door and stretched his legs. They ached but standing felt good. He could feel his own eyelids getting heavy. Whatever Castiel had done to him, he hadn't been able to stop it in time. He felt drowsy the entire drive only the bright headlights had kept him alert.

Dean paused, his sleep deprived brain reacted slower than he would have liked. His mind sent up a red flag and Dean turned to look across the hood of the car. The night seemed brighter for an instant before it darkening once more.

Dean shook his head. His eyes were playing tricks on his. He could have sworn he just saw…

_But how?_

Castiel's door never opened; the angel appeared next to Dean. He stood oddly close, his stance protective. Vibrant blue eyes drifted over the surroundings without actually seeing into the darkness. Castiel didn't seem to share Dean's nagging feeling.

Lisa was already out of the car. She held the still sleeping Ben on her hip. They walked toward the house. Castiel opened the door from the inside as Dean reached in his pocket for a lock pick.

The house had changed. The repairs, completed after the fire, altered the layout of the first floor. It still sent Dean reeling into memories.

_Angel's are watching over you._

His mother's voice whispered in his ear. Her soft words sent a warm shiver down Dean's body.

Dean ignored Castiel as the angel turned toward him protectively, Castiel's hand flinched. There was no way Dean was going to let Castiel knock him out again. Dean held up a hand to both Lisa and Castiel to wait while he searched the house.

Some of the furniture from the previous family was still there. The living room had an old couch and a leather chair.

Dean circled the first floor before climbing the stairs under the wary eyes of Castiel. There was a queen sized bed in the room at the end of the hall. His parent's old bedroom. Dean's own room was empty.

He stood for a moment at the door near the top of the stairs. Brightly colored letters flashed on the white door.

_Sammy._

Dean's hand rested for a moment on the handle. He turned the cold brass; it felt like breaking a seal. It felt like the room was forbidden, sacred, and he wasn't supposed to be there. The air was cold as he pushed the door open. A small bed, without sheets, was the only furniture in the room. The yellow walls were hideously pale in the street light filtering in the window.

Dean stepped back and shut the door. He went back to Castiel and Lisa already knowing what he would have to do.

"Hey, so… There is a queen and a twin upstairs. Cas, you don't sleep so…" Dean trailed off.

"I'll stay down here. This will be fine," Castiel turned to wander off, his expression nearly curious.

"Don't ask," Dean waved a hand at Lisa's question. She didn't need to know everything, especially when she wouldn't understand it anyway. Dean just wanted sleep.

"You and Ben take the queen, it's in my parents old bed room. Up the stairs, last room on the left. There is a bathroom attached to the room."

"Ok," she mumbled behind a yawn as she started up the stairs. "Dean?" He turned to look at her. "Thank you for saving my… our son… again."

"It's my job," he joked with a crooked smile. It faded quickly. He nodded and bit his lip. "Get some sleep Lisa."

"Night, Dean."

The stairs still creaked under Dean's weight. Everyone settled in and the house grew quiet. The silence left too much room to think. Dean's thoughts crowded his head.

He sat on the small bed and buried his face in his hands. Dean rubbed his tired eyes and tried to focus long enough to get his shoes off.

The laces were slick in his clumsy hands. Dean slid his boots off and placed them next to the bed. He pulled his shirt over his head and fell back on the pillow.

The buckle of his belt slid from between his fingers. The ceiling faded and sleep came a little too easily.

Dean still dreamed images not fit for a horror film. Dark and hellish pictures flitted from his memory as much as his imagination.

Demon's raced over the earth. It was a field of death and decay, and still he ran over the bodies of the fallen.

The convent swam with light.

Pain shot through Dean's chest as Lucifer clawed his way through.

A burning kiss turned his veins to fire.

Dean's eyes snapped open. The street light filtered in the window. Sam's mobile spun gently above Dean's head, twinkling with soft music. Light blue wall paper surrounded him and the fresh smell of baby powder filled the air.

Sam's hand wrapped itself roughly around Dean's throat. The hazel eyes, glaring down at Dean with dispassion and hatred, were Sam's and Sam's alone. Dean fought to breathe on instinct, his hands curling around Sam's wrists. He didn't try to remove Sam's grip.

The vibrant green of Dean's eyes was reflected in Sam's hazel. He watched his younger brother intently, waiting for the hazel to turn bloody red. Dean's vision swam with black spots but nothing changed. He struggled for air, but even without it he was alive and waiting.

Waiting…

Light started to crack through Sam's image. The vision faded behind Dean's eyelids, now glowing with Lucifer's light. Dean needed to wake up.

Smooth strong hands slid against Dean's throat. The audible scratch of skin brushing the growing stubble on Dean's neck was the only noise. The large hand seemed like it fit there, like it was meant to be wrapped tightly around Dean's throat.

Or maybe, it was just meant to be _there_… There for Dean whenever he needed help or comfort, family or love. Dean just wanted to feel the instinct run through his body in calming waves.

Sam was _here._

Dean felt the statement ring true, coursing over every inch of his skin like goose bumps on a cold day. For a moment he forgot. Forgot that Sam wasn't Sam, that Sam wanted him dead, that Sam _was_…

Dean needed to wake up.

For a second the touch was gentle, more careful. For a second Dean wanted it to be like it used to be, when they were brothers. Then he opened his eyes and instinct took over.


	6. The Voice in My Head Says No

With finals done, I give you a very early Christmas present!

Don't own the boys even though I wish I did…

Enjoy!

Chapter 6 – The Voice in My Head Says No

Dean slept peacefully on the bed. His leg hung off the side as if he had fallen asleep before he actually got comfortable. His right thumb was looped under his belt while his other hand rested against his hip. Dean was just there, vulnerable, exposed, waiting. Lucifer walked over to the bed. He stood for a moment, just watching Dean.

Lucifer took in the sight of him, drank in Dean's presence. Lucifer didn't know what this felt like but he wasn't sure there were words to describe this pressure, this feeling.

The light caught Dean's chest and the blatant red scars glowed supernaturally against his pale skin. There were raised lines flowing swiftly down Dean's chest and Lucifer rubbed his own nails subconsciously.

Lucifer knelt beside the bed, his hips pressed against the low mattress. His hand hovered inches over the scars. Castiel had done wonders healing Dean, but the marks remained. Lucifer traced one scar from Dean's collar bone to the top of his jeans, his finger barely skimming the skin.

Dean shivered. His head rolled but he didn't wake. Lucifer traced another, being just as gentle. He saw Dean writhe in pain, the wounds suddenly bloody, but this was something different. Lucifer jerked his hand back but Dean hadn't moved; it was just a flash of a memory. A calm trail of blood ran down Dean's skin. It stained Lucifer's finger tip. Another shiver ran through Dean's body, and Lucifer watched him warily.

Lucifer hesitated. He was curious. He couldn't resist.

He traced another scar. Soft, new flesh. And Dean seemed weary, his face drained of energy, his skin growing heated under Lucifer's finger. He pulled his hand back as Dean's skin darkened. Lucifer's touch was toxic.

It was very human of Lucifer to be curious. It was very human of him to question things. But he wasn't human. The mere fact that he couldn't touch Dean without causing him pain was proof enough. He came with a purpose. As if Dean responded to Lucifer's decision, he bared his neck with a tilt of his head.

Lucifer wasn't sure what his problem was. Dean's death would put them at a tactical advantage. His army would take the world even faster. Dean meant nothing to him.

But Dean meant something to Sam.

Lucifer stood. Sam was dead and Dean would die at his hand as well. Just as he had to kill his sun now he had to kill Sam's brother. All is fair in war.

When Lucifer's hand brushed against Dean's neck, the skin was warm and felt like Dean. He hadn't shaven in a few days and the stubble was raspy against the soft flesh of Lucifer's hand. His grip encompassed most of Dean's neck.

_How was Dean not awake yet?_

Lucifer hesitated. His hand brushed lightly against Dean's chin and the man's eyes flew open. There was Hell-fire behind the emerald green eyes. A fist connected solidly with Lucifer's chin. He held on and pressed on Dean's windpipe. Immediately Dean's hands grabbed Lucifer's wrist and tried to loosen his hold. Dean kicked out at his attacker trying to knock Lucifer off balance.

Lucifer laughed lowly. The noise would barely reach Dean's ears. He drove a knee into Dean's chest, and the man coughed up air as his lips turned blue. Lucifer felt the blood seep into his jeans. Dean's foot hit the floor noisily and Lucifer pressed harder. Dean froze for an instant his nails red with Lucifer's blood.

Lucifer laughed again. He moved one hand and put a finger to his lips and shook his head. He leaned in to Dean's ear so that his voice was only a whisper. "No need to wake the family, Dean."

Dean grunted back and slammed his foot against the ground. Lucifer pressed up against his jaw, making it difficult for Dean to breathe. Dean's faltered; his nostril's flared. Lucifer's thumbs dug deeper into Dean's windpipe. The man flailed half-heartedly, his foot tapping the ground lightly.

_Dean!_

Lucifer froze.

_Dean!_

_No_. It couldn't be. Lucifer felt his hands shaking against Dean's throat. He felt them loosen and heard Dean gasp for air in shallow gulps, weary of Lucifer staring at him with blood red eyes. Dean's face mirrored Lucifer's confusion but not his horror.

Lucifer's knee digging into Dean's chest, bearing Sam's full weight, still cut the man's breath short.

Lucifer shuddered. His hands moved backwards against his will. He stood and stepped back. Dean panted on the bed for a moment. There was a war in his eyes. Lucifer could see deep within the green; Dean couldn't decide whether to attack or regroup.

Dean had no more than stood up when Castiel swung in the doorway. Shock crossed his features as Lucifer glared at Dean. Lucifer's anger boiled but all he could do was stand there. He shot a warning glance to Castiel. Dean still eyed Lucifer warily.

Lucifer pushed forward._ Just one leg at a time. Just one_. It wouldn't budge. He tried moving backwards and his body responded too quickly. His steps stuttered as he slid back. Lucifer had to stop when his wings hit the wall.

Dean rubbed his neck gently as if brushing the feeling of Sam's hands from his throat. His eyes followed Lucifer. Castiel darted across the room, but even that couldn't draw Dean's eyes from his brother.

The only noise that filled the silence was the rustle of Lucifer's wings against the wall. He felt the pressure holding his limbs infiltrate his mind. A harsh force building against his thoughts, it drowned out Lucifer's control.

"Dean," he whispered. The name sounded forced and breathy. It sounded sacred and holy. It sounded like it didn't belong on his tongue, and yet left the most pleasant taste behind. Lucifer felt his muscles shiver under the contradiction.

Lucifer's fist clenched against his will; it drew his attention down. He stared at his fist and tried to unclench it. He looked up again to meet Dean's eyes. The shock in the emerald green reflected Lucifer's. A subtle reflection in the window caught his eye. The hazel had returned.

_Dean!_ Sam's voice whispered, except it came out of Lucifer's mouth. It came out with that same tingle of _wrong but so right_. Lucifer shuddered but his body didn't follow.

Sam was alive. Lucifer felt him move to take control and fought him. He attacked Sam's mind attempting to throw him off balance. Sam instinctually grabbed his head and dropped to his knees.

Dean faltered. He took a half step forward before pulling his hand away. Lucifer could see the flash of need in Dean's eyes. It radiated from his posture. He needed to help Sam.

"Dean." Sam's plea rang needy and helpless.

"S-Sam," Dean stuttered. He took half a step forward, completely ignoring Castiel's hand on his chest.

"You've got to help me man." Every other word came out in Lucifer's deep voice. He felt Sam's control falter.

"There's nothing you can do." Again Sam's voice shared Lucifer's protest.

Sam tilted their head back and stared at the ceiling. Lucifer clawed his way back; he was stronger, more powerful then Sam could ever be. _I'll deal with you later_. A harsh cry escaped his throat before Sam fell back again.

"Sammy," Dean whispered.

"Not anymore." Lucifer stood, blood red eyes focusing on Dean. "Now he can watch you die." Lucifer pushed himself forward. The resistance rose against him and he paused. _You can hear his heart come to a slow and painful stop while your own hands are wrapped tightly around his throat._

Lucifer suppressed the urge to cry out with Sam. A slight whimper escaped in its place. He snarled at the sound echoing inside his head. Lucifer waved his hand and Castiel flew backward against the wall. The angel looked so flustered pressed there with his trench coat fluttering open.

"Let him go," Dean rumbled.

"I don't think you are at liberty to give me orders. Just curious, which one?" Lucifer didn't want to kill Dean anymore. He wanted to make him suffer, long and slow so that Sam would suffer just as much.

Lucifer watched the light catch Dean's scarred chest as the man shifted from one leg to another. Sam moaned in agony, a retched noise that seemed to chill Lucifer's skin and seep out of his pores. His human body wanted to shiver but he refused to let it.

"Let them both go. Get the fuck out of my brother, you bastard."

"Well, that is quite a demand coming from you. I don't think you could stop me if I wanted this one to die." Lightning fast, he was across the room; his hand was cutting off Castiel's air, a gentle sizzling crackle raced along his skin. Castiel jerked but the pressure holding him to the wall echoed it as a twitch.

"But you can't kill Sam," Dean stated forcefully. His eyes darted to Castiel's face, worry crossing his features.

"Not here, but I have another visit to the freezing ocean planned that shall surely put him down again, for good this time." Dean's breath rushed out. "I drowned him once already I can do it again, but this time Sammy won't have an extra life."

"It didn't work the first time; what makes you think my brother won't be strong enough to fight you again?" There was venom in the statement.

"You'll already be dead." Lucifer laughed. Sam cried Dean's name again.

Dean growled. It was a low and feral sound. The flash of teeth reminded Lucifer of a cornered animal, not going down without a fight. "Then do it already," Dean challenged.

Lucifer moved forward slowly, a chuckle rumbling in his chest. "What do you think you are doing?" Castiel's voice was rough but Dean didn't seem to here. His scowl didn't falter.

Lucifer's hand was inches from Dean while Castiel was still pressed solidly against the wall. Lucifer smiled when Dean tilted his head back, baring his throat. Sam's hand found that precise spot around Dean's throat, that one brush of skin that made Lucifer shiver. He stopped.

Sam held him back. Dean was still staring at him as the stubble covering his chin rasped against Lucifer's hand. Dean's own hand flew out and caught Lucifer solidly in the jaw. The blow made Lucifer's head spin but his body stood rigid.

_Shit! Again, Dean_. Sam called to his brother but Lucifer still had control over his mouth. Somehow the message came through loud and clear because Dean swung again. The sharp sting died quickly. He tried for Lucifer's stomach but even Sam could have taken the blow.

"Trying to hurt me Dean?" Control was flooding Lucifer as he fought the restraint. Sam wasn't able to endure the constant pressure. His hand tightened. He watched the scowl on Dean's face fail as his air supply disappeared. "You aren't doing a very good job."

Dean grabbed Lucifer's arm. He reached out for Lucifer, but his arm was too short to reach his neck. Sam thrashed around violently.

Lightning raced across Lucifer's skin. It burned but he didn't show that he was in any pain. The next flare was stronger and Sam's cry of pain made Lucifer flinch.

"The angel's are coming," Castiel's voice rang out. "Brother, they are coming to kill you."

_Good. If I can't stop you then they can_, Sam growled.

_Except they won't get here in time to save Dean. He will die here for nothing._

Sam's thoughts faltered. Another shock made Lucifer's muscles twitch.

_But they won't be able to kill me Sam. It takes a lot to kill an angel. His death will be in vain._ Lucifer wrapped this around Sam's mind like a sturdy rope.

He felt Sam try to hold on, felt him try to keep Lucifer standing there waiting for the angels. _Dean would gladly die if it meant the death of you._

_Would he die if it meant the death of you?_

_He_… That was the problem. Lucifer picked at Sam's mind. Dean would do anything to save Sam and Lucifer began to realize that the reverse was true as well. _He would…_

_Sam. We need to leave. I will let your brother live if you let me leave this house_. The lightning flared again and it visibly lit Lucifer's skin.

_How can I trust you? You are the devil?_ Sam's decision was already made. Lucifer could feel it.

_I am all you have at the moment. They won't see you in here, not like Dean does. They will kill you and me no matter what Dean does to stop them._

Sam still held back; Lucifer felt like mentally slapping Sam. But it didn't come to that. Release flooded every inch of his limbs. Castiel hit the floor in an unexpected heap. Dean stumbled back against the bed as Lucifer's hand fell open, his own hold failing. He stood for a moment looking down at Dean. Sam stirred restlessly at the back of his mind. Lucifer's eyes flickered hazel before Lucifer could stop them.

Lucifer nodded to Dean before letting the room melt around him.

The ocean was a wide stretch of black nothing. Lucifer could see but only through his sight instead of Sam's.

_Wait. What are you doing?_

"I'm putting an end to this." A sharp spray of mist hit Lucifer's chest.

_No. I just saved you. We had a deal. Are you just going to go back on your word?_

"No, Sam. The deal was for your brother's life, not yours. I can't have you hiding out in the back of my mind. You are a liability that I thought I was rid of."

_No._

"I cannot fight you every time I move. I cannot allow you to live if you are going to be so disruptive. Your life is over." Lucifer stepped forward.

_I stopped you once… I can do it again…_

Sam fought viciously but he couldn't regain control. Lucifer laughed a little but didn't move any closer. "Sam, Sam, Sam. Your only power over me came in your brother's defense. You couldn't do that again if you tried."

_No._

"Good bye Sam."


	7. When the Water Runs Cold

Here is a late Christmas Present! Please enjoy!

Chapter 7 – When the Water Runs Cold

Lucifer nodded to him. It was an odd and thrilling sensation, meeting the devil's gaze. The hollow eyes had flashed with a hazel glow but Dean knew that it had been Lucifer nodding to him. It was as if he knew exactly what Dean had been trying to do.

The idea had come to him when Lucifer had sent the shock through Castiel. It had been just like the demons. Dean only needed to lure him close enough.

As Lucifer flickered and disappeared, Dean felt the presence disappear as well, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Dean's plan might have failed but he wasn't dead, and neither was Castiel. Dean sat as a rush of pain hit his chest. His hand instinctually brushed the reopened cuts racing down his torso.

_Sammy._

Lucifer was going to kill him again. But it wouldn't work! It couldn't. Would it?

"Dean?" Castiel was standing up. "Are you hurt?" The question was rather pointless.

"No I'm fine," he cursed the tremor running through his voice. He knew Castiel wouldn't believe him but he was done being babied. Dean was thirty years old, damn it.

When Castiel opened his mouth to protest, Dean glared and told him to shut the hell up.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Dean turned and laughed sarcastically. He rubbed a weary hand across his mouth. "You want something?" He was tired of arrogance that clung to Zachariah like ticks clung to an infested dog.

"I want to know why you let Lucifer leave when Castiel knew we were coming to kill him?"

"I'm glad you think I'm superman but last time I checked Lucifer is powerful. Me." He pointed to his chest. "Not so much. Human. Remember. You decided we were all lunch meat."

"You are the one to stop Lucifer and send him back to Hell. By any means necessary you should have held him here until we arrived."

"Hey Lucifer, do you want to sit and have a beer while we wait for the angels that are coming to kill you? I would greatly appreciate it, thanks, I'll have a Miller. I think that would work, don't you." Dean smiled bitterly.

"Your antics are not appreciated."

"Yeah well, sorry, guess you fucked up by not picking the most obedient human." Dean laughed sharply. "And what the hell took you so long. You're one place and, poof, you're in another one. Had to have that one last laugh about how you screwed humanity over?"

"As I recall… your brother started the apocalypse, not me."

Dean's grin turned into a scowl blazing full force at Zachariah. "You can shut the fuck up."

"You are not to talk to me that way. You should respect me as your superior-"

"What the hell are you on, buddy? I didn't sign up for war." Dean was driving his finger into the angel's chest. "You dragged me into this. You dragged Sammy into this."

"It is your duty-"

"The hell it is. I don't owe you anything." Dean turned. He was so tired.

"Your brother chose to drink demon blood. He chose to kill Lilith. He chose to let Lucifer out."

Each word sank deep in Dean's brain. Each one was a blow that fed his anger. His fist connected solidly with Zachariah's face. Just as it had with Lucifer the punch didn't do much and it hurt like hell. "Don't you fucking dare."

"What, state the truth? You broke the first seal. Your brother unleashed Lucifer, gave him a perfect vessel. You don't feel at all responsible for that?"

Dean swung again. He felt his shoulder jar and throb with the contact. "You made him do that. It wasn't his fault. You sacrificed him."

"That may have been the plan but he walked the path on his own. Now. I don't want the apocalypse to last forever, and I'm sure you don't either. So I suggest you do what I tell you, when I tell you, so that everyone doesn't die."

"Plenty are dead. More every second will die because of you. Sammy is," tears built behind his eyes, "going to die because of you."

"So you want everyone else to die because you can't get over the fact that you let Sammy die? Because you can't get over the fact that you screwed up?"

Dean grabbed Zachariah's throat, held on even as Zachariah fought his arm. "Shut up."

"Your father told you to protect him and you failed."

"Shut up!" Dean's hand shifted.

"He knew what Sammy was meant for."

Dean squeezed Zachariah's throat in warning.

"What are you going to do, Dean? It takes a lot to kill an angel. You aren't capable even if you wanted to."

Dean squeezed again and watched the light ripple over Zachariah's skin in waves under his grip. The power that ran down his arm was jarring as it had been with Lucifer. It flowed reluctantly. Dean held on as the angel sank to his knees. He bent down close to Zachariah's ear and whispered, "What makes you think I couldn't kill you right now?" He could smell the fear all around him. It smelled sweet.

Dean let go. He let Zachariah stumble backwards, before the angel rose to his feet. Incredulity crossed his features.

"I will never be your puppet, you arrogant bastard. Your tricks don't work on me. Now get the fuck out of my house." Surprisingly the angel obeyed and was gone an instant later.

Castiel was standing unnaturally still. Dean glanced over and looked away. Defiance wasn't Castiel's strong suit. The disapproval in the angel's eyes was not comforting. Dean stormed out of the room and into the bathroom. It was his refuge.

Dean turned the shower on and was surprised that the water was still connected. He removed his jeans. Surprisingly they weren't stained expect for his finger prints etched in Sam's blood across the fabric.

The water ran hot down the back of his neck.

He tried to ignore the power and pleasure he felt when Zacharias was kneeling before him. He tried to ignore the rush of sensation filling him. He had liked it. He had wanted it. The thing inside of him had wanted it. Dean felt as if he had been infected with something horrible.

Dean shook the thoughts from his head. Focused on the water and the rush of heat running over his tense muscles. It burned the blood from his skin. Dean was careful not to irritate the flush bruises radiating across his chest. Nothing good could come from the pain. Steam clouded the air. Dean realized he never turned the light on. The dark was nice, peaceful and quiet. He tried to imagine he was anywhere but Kansas.

Sam's voice echoed in his head. His brother would have made a Wizard of Oz joke to that thought. _There's no place like home_. Dean let a single sob escape his lips. The rest settled in to a hurricane behind the walls he constructed in his mind. Dean was used to shutting his emotions down but…

Sam was alive.

Sam was fighting; he was winning, until…

Sam was going to…

The door squeaked open and light radiated through the steam and curtain. An uncomfortable tension filled the room.

"What are you doing in here?" Dean didn't turn his head from under the steady flow. He wanted peace.

"I came to see if you were alright."

"I'm fine Castiel, please leave," Dean huffed.

"But you were wounded…"

"Don't worry about me. Trust me, everything is perfectly fine." His chest throbbed in angry protest.

"Dean…"

"Get out!" Silence followed the demand; it was deafening. The light began to fade and the steam closed off his senses again. His mind scrambled to fill the sudden blackness pressing in on him. Dean needed to think of anything but this night, this week, this life…his life. He wanted to escape into his mind but it filled the emptiness with Sam, filled it with the one thing Dean couldn't take right now. Sam's smell still clung to Dean's skin, followed him around in a cloud of sorrow. He hated it; he loved it; he needed it. Sam, everywhere, but more importantly here, now. Dean felt his heart tighten. He sobbed. The tears rolling down his cheeks were lost in the torrent of water streaming over his head.

The faucet stuttered and turned frigid. The icy water pelted his hot skin. Dean turned the knob with a shaky hand and the water stopped. His skin rippled and his arm hair stood on end.

There was no towel waiting on the rack. Dean walked over to the sink but there was nothing in the medicine cabinet. Dilute blood was rolling down his skin in a thin trickle. He should take care of that. Dean flipped the small light on.

Dean closed the door of the cabinet. The mirror revealed the hand shaped bruise developing around his neck, echoed darkly against the paleness of his skin. He could see the details, the long lines of Sam's fingers, the broad black mark of Sam's palm, the rough circle of Sam's thumb.

His fist flew out again. The glass was less resistant then either angel's face was. The mirror cracked, streaked red with blood. The cuts were jagged and harsh across Dean's knuckles. The mirror still held in its frame and Dean looked into his own tired eyes. The vibrant green was replaced by a lifeless pale color. He missed the vibrancy. The old green had been so alive.

Now his eyes seemed dead, pure, holy…inhuman. Dean had been drafted into this war and this was what they took from him. Staring into his own eyes, Dean couldn't feel alive, couldn't imagine anyone seeing anything but this emptiness staring back at him.

Dean pulled a piece of glass from the frame. Ran the jagged edge across his thumb. A bright red line marked the cut. A sharp sting reminded Dean that people needed him. He held the edge to his wrist, the sharp mirror's edge flush with the soft tissue and the throbbing pulse resting just below his skin. Voices thundered through his mind but none of them were his own. His father yelled in his ear about watching out for Sam. His brother pleaded in his ear about needing him. Castiel spoke about his destiny. Zacharias taunted him about his duty. Millions of people cried for him to sacrifice himself to save their lives.

Dean's hand shook. There was something hidden beneath the commotion. A soft whisper, a shy voice.

_It is your duty. It is your job. It's what you're good at. You are a soldier. You are a warrior. That is all you ever were and all you'll ever be. You can save these people. You owe it to them, to Dad, to Sam_.

Dean fell to his knees; the only thing filling his ears now was his own voice, slowly building in strength and confidence.

_Your duty. You promised you would save him. It's your fault and your mess… You fix it_.

Dean hands gripped the sink in an effort to keep himself upright, but his own taunts and encouragement beat down on him until the glass pressed to his wrist seemed like the most vile temptation. Instead Dean just slid to the chilled tile and let the tears streak hot down his cheeks. The glass clattered in the sink.

He couldn't control the violent tremors running down his body.

He wanted it to be over. He wanted it all to end.

He wanted his brother to live.

He wanted Sam.

"Sammy."


	8. Know Your Place

Happy New Year! Another chapter down…

Disclaimer: don't own them blah blah blah

Enjoy!

Chapter 8 - Know Your Place

Lucifer could still smell Dean in the room. His scent was everywhere, thick, rich and burning. It sent a tingle over Lucifer's skin, a gentle whisper of memory. He was here not too long ago. An angel too.

Beelzebub held his nose and complained of the stench. "They all smell the same. Like," he gagged, "disgusting filth." He swallowed and continued around the room.

Lucifer rolled his eyes. Beelzebub really was senseless sometimes. His nostril's flared. Dean was everywhere. He had walked across this room, sat in that chair, slept in this bed, ate at that table. Lucifer wasn't concerned by angel until the flair of Castiel's scent burned his nose like fresh basil.

His mind flinched back. The intrusion of scent sent a reverberating need and jealous anger rushing through Lucifer. These feelings were wrong, shouldn't be there.

"Lucifer?" Astoreth's gaze was critical. "What's wrong?" She must have read his expression; he needed to school his features.

"Nothing is wrong," he growled. Lucifer's hand rested at his temple for a moment before he realized the gesture. It was Sam's tell.

Astoreth didn't shrink back but prodded further. "Everything normal up there?"

"My mind is none of your concern, Astoreth." Her name fell from his tongue with venom.

She pulled him to the side. "You might be able to fool everyone else, but your macho bullshit doesn't work on me and you know that. Lucifer, you are damn near invincible. We are not, so I need to know that you are focused on the present and not dreaming of the future…or the past."

Astoreth suspected him. Lucifer always knew she would figure it out sooner or later. He sighed. "I'm focused."

She stared at him as if still assessing his mental state. Astoreth's expression left no hint to the conclusion she had drawn. The general turned to the black eyed men and women behind them. "He was here. Dean Winchester was here with an angel. Not high ranking. Potentially and probably Castiel. Our only challenge lies with Winchester himself. We have dealt with angels before. Kill the vessel and move on.

"Now, they were here very recently. By the smell," her nose wrinkled, "it's been a few days, maybe longer. We fan out and follow the leads we have. He will slip up and lead us back. There may be humans traveling with him. It is possible that they are hunters so don't get stupid."

Lucifer's hand rose and he pointed to five demons on his right. "The path he has followed so far is in a generally southern direction. Head that way and see if you can't pick up his scent. Bring the Hellhounds." The demons nodded. "Dean's path suggests that he is actually moving North East for the look of things around here. I want five more of you to follow that lead. The other groups, head for fifty miles on the compass points and spiral from there." Lucifer watched their black eyes flicker eagerly. "Go."

The demons bolted and the room was suddenly empty but for Lucifer, Astoreth and Beelzebub. Lucifer's generals turned back to him, one for orders, the second for information. He really didn't want to talk to her. "Beelzebub, we have been tracking him for nearly a year. Why have we not made progress?"

"Well, sir, it is more difficult now that the angels have stopped providing transportation. They abandon the humans for all we know that or they are no longer traveling in a traceable fashion."

"Find them. Find him. Now. I won't wait any longer." Beelzebub filed out under Lucifer's glare. The demon's presence evaporated and the night was not so dark where he had been in the door way. "Astoreth, I want you to…"

Her finger rested lightly on his lips and he suppressed the need to flinch away from her touch. "Are you alright?"

"What kind of question is that? I am everlasting; how could I be anything but fine?" Lucifer growled. She could see through his mask, could feel the growing tension trying to pull him apart.

"Tell me something and I will know if you are lying so give me the truth. Is Sam Winchester dead?" Astoreth's eyes shimmered like oil.

Lucifer closed his eyes as he felt the blood red flicker.

_Guess she figured it out,_ came a small voice.

_Shut it or I will cause you so much pain that Hell would be a trip to the fucking spa_, Lucifer spat. "He is..."

Astoreth laughed. Her smile was twisted in distraught disgust. "How?"

"He cannot die while Dean is still alive. I need to find him and kill him."

_You know I won't let you_, Sam argued like he had so many times before.

"You had a chance to kill him. Many chances. We wouldn't have this problem, any problems, if you had just ripped his throat out and stomped on his heart."

"I have it under control." Lucifer looked to the window. The glow of life was evaporating as the world died. Little still radiated life and the forest no longer looked welcoming and worshipful. _I can't have her questioning me._

What are you going to do about it?

"Bullshit. You aren't fully restored. You are just another demon like us and one who has succumbed to a terrible distraction." The slap reverberated in the small room. Astoreth's face glowed lightly from the contact.

_I'm going to show her where her place is_. Lucifer's hand settled on her shoulder. "I have more power," he shot pain like lightning through her, "than you could ever dream of. I won't be under minded by my inferior. I am the only one capable of commanding this war and you would be wise to remember that."

Astoreth scowled and stood her ground. The next shock sent her to her knees before him. She glared up at him but said nothing.

"Just because I chose you over Beelzebub doesn't mean I can't dispose of either of you when you prove no longer necessary."

"You need me," she mumbled back.

"Your military senses are very excellent, yes, but how many humans have the same sense. Pop a demon in and I have all the sense I need. You are expendable. I am not."

"The human's are nearly extinct. You need me to…"

"You're a good screw, and that is about all that is keeping you alive right now." She growled low as if the comment was more painful than the lightning running through her. "Now you will shut your trap about Sam and any other stupid notion that I am less than all-powerful."

She mumbled unintelligibly under her breathe. Astoreth was standing before she could blink. Lucifer shifted his grip to her jaw and snarled.

_How is that a logical idea?_ Sam recoiled.

_It won't hurt… me at least._

I thought we were…

Oh Sam, you are so pathetic.

Lucifer pressed his lips to Astoreth's. She was reluctant. Sam cringed against the fire. Lucifer's hand slid into her hair, half gentle and half animalistic. He pulled her hair back and began to mark her throat. Bruises formed instantly. Astoreth tried to push him away but he pinned her to the wall with the full length of his body.

"Lucifer," she begged. He pulled her shirt up and it ripped in half before he could yank it from her flesh. Astoreth pushed back but Lucifer was already sliding his hand over her lower back pressing her even closer to his body. A line of fire burst forth from the contact. Sam cried out and Lucifer laughed at his pain.

Astoreth shivered at the sound. The tremor of fear masked Dean's scent filling the room and Lucifer found that he missed the smell. Lucifer waited for it, waited for her to kiss back. When she did there was hunger and need lying deep below. Astoreth was desperate and compliant now. Her legs hitched up around his stomach. Her arms pulled at his hair, trying to gain access to his lips still buried in her neck. Lucifer heard her gasp and push against the wall.

He dropped her just as she began to fight him for some control. Lucifer stepped back and let her fall to the ground in a disheveled mass. Astoreth stared at him longingly, her entire body tensed to attack him. She shivered with need.

"You are so pathetic," he repeated. "Get up. We have work to do."

Astoreth rose on trembling knees. She settled with a blank face and steady control. She stalked up to Lucifer and stood before him with her chin held high. The move would have been dignified if the bruises weren't still littering her skin.

Lucifer's face fell in the semblance of an apology but he didn't voice it. He gently took her wrist. She flinched in his grasp before becoming composed again.

_What the fuck was that?_

She knows her place. She knows she needs me more than I need her.

But you do need her. Hey, you couldn't do this without her, Sam was raving.

Lucifer didn't want to admit it but Sam was right. _You think I care about your morality, Sam? You think I give a damn what you think_?

To this Sam was silent.

_Didn't think so_.


	9. Hellhounds Don't Bleed

Hey sorry for the delay… Hope you enjoy the next chapter!

As always, reviews would make my day!

I don't own the characters.

Chapter 9 – Hellhounds Don't Bleed

Dean sat on the floor, drawing his knees into his chest. His legs were falling back into that dull twinge he got after running all day, the steady ache of over-worked muscles finally recovering from the day of activity. Dean mind was calm as he tried to settle the ache and ignore the pain. Running was so ingrained in his body now that it became a mindless exercise. He often drifted off within himself, hypnotized by the thoughtless repetition.

He rubbed his calves. Damn, he missed the Impala. It wasn't possible to keep her running. Gasoline became scarce and dangerous to burn. The plants had withered and the oxygen in the air was low.

Fucking Hell, he would travel with Castiel if he could, but, as if their survival wasn't hard enough, Lucifer could tell exactly when one of those bastards jumped from place to place. He could feel it somehow. Dean remembered the subtle echo running through him when Castiel transported him out of the monastery. He supposed the angels knew that too. That was why they kept getting caught before they decided not to help anymore.

Dean's mind wondered now that they had stopped for the night. Only a day ahead of them before he could sleep in his own bed. Castiel had been able to keep them alive if only just. The encampment was barely surviving and with the food supplies dwindling, their future looked dim. Dean was surprised that he had been able to keep such a large group alive, not to mention hidden.

He was on a mission. _Mission Impossible_. Damn Tom Cruise movies. Dean mentally smacked himself for referencing the horrible films. He shivered as he remembered the wretched acting and the comical attempt at action scenes. He missed bad movies, horrible day time television and even those stupid commercials for things he would never need.

Dean shook the memories from his mind. The mission, right. He was out to find more food and maybe the stray human that somehow survived the wasteland that followed Lucifer's blotting out the sun. People were counting on this mission's success. If he failed they would have to cut the rations and they were thin as it was. Dean glanced over at the small bags of preserves they happened to stumble upon. They had to venture farther and farther every time they need supplies.

It was often that food ran through his mind. He would daydream of eating an orange, fresh and ripe off a tree. His mouth watered when he imagined a hot burger and greasy, salty French fries. Dean couldn't stop the small whimper that escaped his lips when he imagined apple pie straight from the oven. He would gladly sacrifice himself to that scarecrow in Burkitsville, Indiana if it meant he could have apple pie one more time.

His thigh twitched angrily and threatened to lock up but his massaging fingers held the seizure at bay. They had run so much more today than they had in a long time. Castiel had sensed the demons getting closer. They altered the trail and Dean led them swiftly deeper into the wastelands. Their course was directly south now. He figured they were somewhere in what used to be Nebraska right now. Their camp was back in Kansas. Damn, why hadn't Sam found them yet?

Lucifer's attacks had been systematic and violent. Hundreds of demon's grabbed every available meat suit until young children were attacking and killing innocent people and towns crumbled under the devil's gaze. A few people had found Dean and the angels. They had carved a home into the hollow world of the apocalypse. Kansas was where it seemed to begin and Dean had a good feeling Kansas would be where it ended.

Their days were spent trying to survive. People had filtered in over the months when Dean could get them to his camp before Sam killed them. _Lucifer_. Lucifer killed them.

Dean had taken the last year to get used to people depending on him, asking for his opinion, wanting him to pass judgment. Castiel approved, said it was the duty of a savior to serve the people. Dean scowled and told everyone to shove off. He felt guilty for passing them off to Bobby but the old man didn't seem to mind much.

Dean always insisted that he was just like everyone else, and believed it himself for a while. He still felt the sensation racing under his skin. It was less noticeable when Dean was calm, but it was too much to ignore sometimes.

Dean shivered in the small run down house. His worn clothes held warmth considerably well but that also meant they held the sweat drying cold against his skin.

Another thing he missed dearly. Running water. Damn, he wanted a legitimate shower with water so hot it burned his skin bright red, and the sharp beat of water pounding over his head. It was his sanctuary, and Sam-_not Sam_-Lucifer managed to steal that away too. Once the power grids went down there was really no way to maintain any sort of civilization. Dean settled for warm baths and even those were rare.

His thoughts always started here, deep in longing and buried in memories. They always ended far from the remembered comforts and the desperate wants. They would always drift to the weight on his shoulders threatening to crush the life out of him. So many people depended on him, on his decisions, on his courage, on his success. Dean didn't want to picture their glowing faces as they glared in disappointment if he failed them. They had blamed him and some still hated him.

So many faces turned up to take him in, to watch him secretly and realize he was their savior, their only hope. Dean could see the realization cross their faces; their angered scowls became that sudden look of worship and clinging need. The awe never really wore off. No thanks to Castiel.

His thigh seemed happily numb but Dean's methodic rhythm didn't stop; he was too lost in his thoughts to remember what his hands were doing.

The needy faces became horror stuck masks of the countless bodies that haunted his memory. They were strewn beneath him on the battle field. He watched them die. Some had been possessed by demons while some had run alongside him into battle, when Dean was convinced they still had a chance. It didn't matter whether the person had been possessed or fought of his own free will; Dean respected him all the same. The only thing the angels had in common with the demons was that humans were caught in the bloody middle.

Dean licked his chapped lips as the memories hit him. He still couldn't stop the reaction he had. At least he didn't dream about them much anymore. Something about sleep deprivation and heavy physical activity made his brain shut off. He didn't dream much anymore and he was beginning to appreciate that fact... a lot.

It didn't stop his memories from floating up from the box he had sealed them in. He shuddered as another memory clawed its way from the depths of Dean's mind. The man had been old and the harsh conditions were wearing away at his bones. Dean had seen many people killed instantly and violently, his death was nothing like that. Those who died in battle glowed for a moment and their bodies collapsed, leaving a warm, tingling sensation rocketing through Dean's body. He could watch them fade into nothing, like they had nowhere to go. Sorry ladies and gentlemen Heaven and Hell are closed on account of the apocalypse.

The man shivered under warm blankets, heavy clothing and a roaring fire. He couldn't keep food down and his mind was slipping. Most people shook their heads with sympathy and patted his head in farewell. Dean remembered this because he was returning from battle, with half his men, several of them carrying each other, hobbling after him, when he met the old man.

Dean had a bullet wound in the shoulder, a knife wound across his back and a burn seared down his chest adding to the crisscrossing scars already there. His blood had created a breadcrumb-trail as it ran down his heavy shirt and drizzled to the ground behind him. He supported a man who had stopped moving two hours before they reached camp. Dean knew he was dead, could feel the void next to him and couldn't bring himself to drop the man's body along the way.

Bobby had rushed over and grabbed the man from Dean. He had felt for a heart beat as the man's wife knelt over him. She stepped in front of Dean and shouted curses at him for being the death of her loved one. He staggered around her protesting figure, barely standing from blood loss.

The old man's eyes caught his. He hadn't looked death in the eyes since he came face to face with the reapers. Even then he hadn't seen death, just the doorway. The intensity of the man's dark eyes contrasted his waning light. Dean nearly fell sideways; he was suddenly dizzy. Dean drifted forward and knelt next to the man. This death didn't set his skin a fire. This death didn't make heat run like tendrils of pleasure under his skin. No. This death left him fearfully cold.

Dean leaned forward to hear him whisper his thanks. He wanted to ask for what but his voice was lost. The man just nodded and told Dean to have faith. A frail hand reached out and rasped against Dean's cheek. _God will win and you are the reason why_. Death gripped him tight and pulled the life from his body. Dean felt the old man go as the life drained from his ancient body. The hand against his cheek became icy and slid across his skin. His death was like a black hole and Dean felt himself being pulled in as he stared deep into the lifeless eyes.

He felt himself fall over, the blood lose stealing his balance. Dean felt the cold hard ground beneath him and the fire at his back. He felt hands slide around him and turn him over. He felt the warm blaze of light and passed out.

Dean couldn't repress the shiver that shook his body; the pressure against his skin didn't like the memory either. He would never look death in the eyes again unless he absolutely had too. His hands had paused and he found he was staring off at nothing in particular. Castiel dropped a blanket that smelled of dust over his shoulders. Dean glanced up at this, finally aware of the hunters in the room.

"You should rest," Castiel suggested as the humans sat quietly around the room. They never really talked, even to each other. They spoke little to Castiel and used short statements when talking to Dean. The horror must be affecting them as it had changed everyone. Dean scowled and remained curled up. Castiel huffed and walked away. He sat opposite Dean and avoided all the hunters.

Dean could sleep like this; he shouldn't sleep like this, but he could all the same. His body relaxed instantly. Exhaustion was a luxury at this point; it made sure he didn't waste his time. He needed all the sleep he could get. Every inch of him was tired; sleep would come easy. He glanced around, trying to ignore the eyes on him. Castiel was the only one he looked at. The angel just watched him, sitting cross legged and silent. Dean looked away.

The dust smell coated his nose and mouth as he settled. He felt his breathing calm and his heart slow. Dean's mind faltered mid-thought. So many people had died… because of him.

"Dean," there was a whispered urgency in the voice. Castiel's hand was inches from Dean's shoulder. He flinched away from the touch as he woke. His body grumbled gently from the short sleep. It had been dreamless black bliss. Dean shifted as Castiel backed away. Judging by his loose muscles he couldn't have slept more than a few hours. "I can sense demons closing in. They have hellhounds and don't seem to be slowing down. I think they have your scent."

Dean was on his feet, the dusty blanket discarded. The worn bag of food was slung over Jo's shoulder. Dean thought it appropriate. She was the only hunter who could keep up with Dean.

He turned to the hunters to give an order but the words fell dead on his lips. They already knew what he was about to say and none of them really cared for his orders. He turned with his bag and strode out into the eternal night. Dean's mind reverted to pure instinct and the comfort of the gentle pull of muscles as he ran.

Hellhounds were horrible creatures. Dean preferred them when he couldn't see their shiny black eyes. They were dark splotches with awful jagged teeth. The scars across his forearm rippled in memory. The bite marks were darker than the rest of his skin. All his scars were dark memories.

He was out the door first with all the hunters following swiftly behind. A howl tore through the night air. He glanced toward the horrid call before bolting off into the dark.

Dean felt their presence behind him. His feet were sure and his legs drove him easily over the ground. The fluid motion of his body sent the light under his skin pulsing; drove it deeper, made it shine a little brighter. He felt the rhythm increase speed as his muscles pushed harder. Dean led the hunters along the cold hard ground toward their camp just a day's run south.

Another hound cried in the distance. They were close. If Dean listened hard enough he could hear the dogs circling the house, whimpering as they sought the fresh trail. They would never outpace the hounds.

Dean stopped. His graceful strides just ended as he spun around. There was a thrashing of claws on the ground. The hunters skidded to a stop around him, creating a halo heavy breathing. "Ellen, Jo, Sophia. Go back to camp and make sure none of these demons get by."

Ellen and Sopia nodded and took off. "Don't get yourself killed," Jo warned with an affectionate look, before following her mother.

The rest faced north. Dean could hear the quick pad of paws across the ground. Swift and silent, the hounds slinked through the forest surrounding them. The dead trees huddled around, providing little protection. One hellhound growled in the night. It had caught sight of them.

Heavy boots followed. Dean flipped the knife out of his sleeve and grabbed the colt strapped to his thigh. The hunters pulled blades from wherever they hid them. A few were armed with guns and holy water.

The hilt of Ruby's knife was cold against his skin. His breath was clouding before him. The first hound was bounding ahead of the demons. Dean raised the colt and tracked the black blur. He fired a single shot.

The hound cried out in a flash of light. The bullet smoked from the center of the hound's forehead. Dean watched it dissolve into black smoke. The others were staring again.

With the colt tucked back in the strap at his thigh Dean pulled another knife. The giant curved blade sheathed at the small of his back. The second hound pursued, undeterred. It would be on them in seconds and the hunters couldn't see it. "Approaching from the right in five, four, three…" They turned to guard against the beast but Dean was already in motion.

He sprinted toward the snarling dog, careful to keep both blades away from his body. The flash of his own hands glowed at the edge of his vision. He knew the hunters could still see him; he wasn't far enough away that the dark hid him completely.

Dean leapt at the hound just as it dove at him. The curved blade arced across the hellhound's exposed chest, driving its jaws away from his face.

Dean spun a sharp kick to its face, sending the dog into a dead tree. It rose and bared its jagged teeth. It was jumping at him after two bounds. Its snarling jaws snapped inches from his face, light ricocheting around its frame. The pressure caressed every inch of his skin as the hound jerked against his blade.

He waited as the hound collapsed and the silvery knife was all that remained. "Take care of the fucking demons," he shouted at the others. The three demons ran directly into them, throwing one hunter back as guns shot and knives stabbed at the demon flesh.

The last of the hounds ran at him from behind. Bobby jumped in the way as Dean spun. The dog struck the man's face with razor claws, tearing at his eyes. Dean hooked the curved blade through the creature's jaw bone. He pulled sideways, avoiding the thing's vicious bite and yanked the creature away from Bobby. He took claws to the chest, for his efforts. The black nails were serrated and clung to his skin. Dean grunted and buried the remaining knife in its side repeatedly. The claws dissolved.

Panting, Dean pulled back the thick jacket. The claws barely struck his skin. "Dean?" Castiel was there in an instant.

"Shut up," Dean muttered and closed the jacket.

"Are you…"

"No." Dean slid both knives back in their sheaths. Best thing about killing hellhounds, they didn't bleed all over his knives. He ran to Bobby. The man was getting up by blindly using a tree to support himself. "Hey Bobby slow down." Dean looked at the man's face and cringed.

"Don't give me that look boy. I'm tougher than this. Start running I'll keep up." Bobby started to walk without the support of the tree.

"Bobby-"

"Dean. I can take care of myself. Get moving." The man pushed Dean away from him. "Start running all of ya."

Dean nodded and took off. Bobby struggled behind but he knew the way back and Dean and the others couldn't wait for him.


End file.
